


Age of Miracles

by deprough, MalachiteDrake, RogueWarrior



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Get Together, Loki & OFC - Freeform, Moral Ambiguity, Not Age of Ultron Compliant, Not Agents of Sheild Compliant, Post Captain America: Winter Soldier, Slow Build, Smut, Trigger Warning: Mind Control, trigger warning: suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 95
Words: 221,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3377111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deprough/pseuds/deprough, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalachiteDrake/pseuds/MalachiteDrake, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueWarrior/pseuds/RogueWarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after SHIELD was disbanded and HYDRA revealed to the world, things have not gotten better. Someone leaked the Iron Man suit schematics, including their power supply, to the world, creating the terror of the Iron Suits. The world has devolved into chaos, with many countries, including the US, declaring martial law. Old villains and new scheme to take advantage of the discord, while the heroes of the world strive for peace - and to hold on to their hope of a better tomorrow. Meanwhile, fate keeps it own timetable, leaving humanity - all of Earth - on the brink its final destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Old Guard

They made him when he was five blocks away. The collar pulled up over his chin didn’t hide his identity; they didn’t even need to see his left arm to know who he was. The unseen watchers tracked his progress as he marched through the New York sludge, left from a recent snowstorm.

No one watching was surprised when he pushed open the doors to the Avengers Tower and entered. One or two of them were surprised that he hadn’t come in with murder in his eyes. Others were wary but curious.

One man, one of the few living beings observing, watched with pain.

The receptionist smiled cheerfully as the man approached. ‘She’ scanned him for weapons and found none, aside from his arm. At the same time, ‘she’ and JARVIS worked in unison to assess his biometrics, his body language, and his general health. “Good morning!” the LMD of Alison - who worked in the room behind the reception desk - greeted him with the right amount of perkiness and professionalism. “How can I help you?”

It took the visitor a moment to speak, his dark eyes darting anxiously around the room. “I’d like to talk to Steve.”

Alison and the IA managing her LMD knew who he meant. However, the decoy asked, “Steve who?”

The man frowned. “Rogers.”

“Whom may I say is calling?” In the secure room behind reception, Alison tensed, her fingers on the LMD’s controls. Her LMD continued to smile brightly, evincing no fear.

“James Buchanan.” He cleared his throat and said hoarsely, “Bucky. Tell him it’s Bucky.”

“Just a moment, Mr. Buchanan,” she chirped again, “let me see if he is available.”

Several dozen floors above them, Tony Stark put a restraining hand on Rogers’ shoulder. “Hold on there, hero. Just because he didn’t come in guns blazing doesn’t mean he isn’t planning to kill you.” In this world, it was more likely the opposite, in Tony’s opinion. _I suppose we should just be thankful that he didn’t come in wearing an Iron Suit._ His stomach curled at the thought of the Winter Soldier in a suit made from the stolen plans.

Steve shrugged off the hand and stood up, pacing towards the elevator door. “Well, he can try, I guess, but I’m not gonna let him just disappear again. It’s been two years. Who knows how much he’s changed?”

Tony frowned and muttered to the closing elevator door, “That’s what I’m afraid of, Captain.” He shook his head and then rolled his shoulders. “JARVIS, have the first through fourth floors cleared of living personnel and put security on high alert stand-by. Prep Seventeen for me.”

“Will you be joining them in the lobby, sir?”

“Only if I have to. Feed the security cameras through to Seventeen for me.” If it came to a fight in the lobby, it would be third time that year; at least now there were only ever a handful of humans in area to evacuate. _What a world to live in,_ he sighed as the metal of suit Seventeen settled over his body. _But it’s the only one we’ve got, for now._

Steve stepped out of the elevator and tried to pretend that he wasn’t nervous. He’d left his shield upstairs and he wasn’t in uniform; he hoped Bucky was here to actually see him and not…for other reasons. Seeing his old friend was both joyous and a kick in the gut. _I tried, Buck. I tried to find you._ He forced himself to smile and called out across the mostly empty lobby. “Bucky!”

The Winter Soldier turned at the chime of the elevator, his own eyes uncertain. At Steve’s enthusiastic greeting, he smiled but it was a ghost of his old expression. “Steve.” His hands remained in his pockets, his shoulders hunched. Would his old friend welcome him? The unknown answer to that question made Bucky hold back, even as he felt a surge of hope at the sight of Steve.

Steve stepped into the awkwardness and pulled Bucky into a hug, as if the intervening seventy years, near fight to the death in the helicarrier, and Bucky’s two year disappearance had never happened. “How are you?” It was asked brightly, but Bucky could see the undercurrent of concern in the Captain’s eyes.

“Good.” Bucky swallowed and detached himself from Steve, keeping his left hand in his pocket. “I’ve been… working. Trying to figure out what’s me and what’s… Zola. And Pierce.”

Steve nodded and there was another awkward pause as the two tried to figure out how to interact again. “Would you like to come upstairs?” It was a cautious offer, but everything else that crossed his mind seemed like he’d be interrogating his (former?) best friend in the lobby. He wasn’t sure inviting Bucky up was the best idea, but it seemed like the right one at the moment. He’d long ago learned that he should always follow the right idea.

“I need some help.” It was an awkward transition from the man that Steve remembered as quick-witted and charming. He glanced at the smiling receptionist, still unaware that he was looking at a robot. “We should talk somewhere private.”

Steve nodded and motioned to the elevator; once inside, he pressed his thumb to a bio-scanner and the small room smoothly pulled up towards the penthouse. “Tony… Stark, the man that owns this tower, he’ll be where we’re going, but he’s probably been listening to everything we’ve said anyways.” Steve flashed Bucky a grin and shrugged. “Even I can’t talk him out of that, not after everything that’s happened. If you need help, he’s a good man.”

Bucky nodded and shifted uncomfortably; the rest of the ride was silent while Steve watched him and he tried not to crawl out of his own skin. When the doors of the elevator opened, it was directly into the living room of the penthouse. Tony was behind the large bar, mixing himself a drink. He’d ditched the suit with an eyeroll when Steve had brought Bucky up the elevator but he had Seventeen on standby. He nodded to the Winter Soldier, more wary than Steve but far less hesitant. “Hey. Drink? I’ve got a full bar. Steve, your usual?”

“Yes, thanks.” Steve nodded at his coworker/boss and Stark reached for a can of Coke. The bearing that Steve was settling into relaxed Bucky as well and the man was comfortable enough to remove his hands from his pockets. He unzipped his coat as Tony put Steve’s frosty Coke on the counter.

“How about you, Lefty?” Stark made the question both an offer and a challenge.

Bucky blinked at Stark uneasily, not sure how to respond. Steve remained silent, trusting Bucky to navigate his own way with the billionaire. “Water,” the former assassin finally said.

“You get Tony Stark acting as your bartender and you want water?” Stark shook his head and reached for a bottle of Avian. “Do you know how much time and money and effort I put into stocking this bar?”

Bucky seemed to find a hint of assertiveness. “No, I don’t.”

“Lots of time. Lots of money. Water? Really?” Tony looked at him, resisting the urge to call him ‘pussy’. “Last chance to have a real drink.”

“Water is a real drink.” Bucky wouldn’t change, not now, not after Stark had made such a big deal. “Please.”

“Suit yourself.” Tony set the glass with water on the bar and poured a scotch for himself. “So. You need a hand – flesh or metal one? Or better question - what makes you think you can help HYDRA nearly take over the world, then disappear for two years only to come here for help?”

“Tony.” Steve’s reprimand ended any further questions but didn’t stop the awkwardness that filled the room.

“It’s alright, Steve. It’s fair.” Bucky reached out and took the water in his right hand. “I have information about Baron Von Strucker’s base. I know he’s working on two projects.”

“The HYDRA scientist?” Tony looked more interested in what Bucky was saying than in his drink choices. He’d been looking for Von Strucker since he’d claimed responsibility for a series of bombings in Chile.

“Yes.” As the scrutiny turned to his news, the metal-armed man relaxed a touch. “He has a base in Tibet. I can’t get in, but I got close enough to overhear that he has two big projects. One the talkers didn’t know anything about, while the second one is called Project Ragnarok.”

“That seems ominous.” Stark tilted his head, considering whether this was a ruse or not. “So, do you have proof?”

“His word is good enough for me.” Steve leapt to his friend’s defense without hesitation.

Bucky fished a SIM card out of a pocket. “I took some pictures.”

Tony took the card and tossed it on the bar. “JARVIS?” Immediately a half-dozen images floated into existence in front of the Iron Man. Bucky started at the appearance of the pictures, then again when the AI’s British tones filtered into the room through the embedded speakers.

“The images have not been tampered with and are verified as from the Tibetan Plateau. A current satellite scan of the area shows no significant heat signatures or power sources, but searching through archived pictures does show an increase in activity in the area over the past eighteen months. Also, the Chinese provincial minister is in SHIELD records for receiving a standard bribe in order to ignore SHIELD activities in the area since 1987. According to current bank records, he has continued to receive payments despite the dissolution of the organization. There is a 61% probability that the area is being used by either a splinter group of SHIELD or a HYDRA cell.”

Both Avengers were frowning now; Steve chewed on his lip, thinking. “How does the area line up with all the other HYDRA cells we’ve taken out? I don’t remember getting anywhere near central Asia.”

“You are correct, Captain Rogers. To date, no discovered HYDRA cell has been located on the Asian mainland. The closest was the cell in Tokyo nearly a year ago. That is an interesting and significant statistical anomaly.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sounded on-edge as he moved closer to the pictures. He wasn’t used to such advanced computers, not even among the enemies he’d fought. A large cave entrance was the first image he pointed to. “That’s the front entrance. I haven’t found another but I suspect it’s there. I managed to slip in on a convoy but couldn’t get further than the garage.” He pointed to a picture with rows of vehicles lined up in a cavern. “The nearby terrain is good and thick; we should be able to get close-”

“I do not sneak in close,” Stark pointed out, taking a slug of his drink. He was getting angry; not at Bucky but at himself. _I should have seen this. I should have noticed that hole. Those are the kinds of holes that get people killed. That get more friends killed._ “The Avengers are not the Screaming Commandos. This is an entirely different kind of war we’re fighting.”

“It was the Howling Commandos. And I do know modern tactics.” Bucky’s voice had gotten harder and Steve stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll work out a game plan with all of the Avengers.” Steve smiled at his long-lost friend. The relief that Bucky was one of the good guys again, coupled with actionable intelligence, made him feel better than he had since James had been born.

“Plus one.” Stark interjected the statement with casual intensity.

“Plus one?” Steve asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Is he talking about me?” Bucky asked uncertainly.

Captain America shook his head. “No. Tony has a mentee that he’s been preparing for action. You think she’s ready?”

“No but she’s started to chew on my slippers when I leave the house, so I think I need to bring her along.” In truth, if Tony left Emma out of the fight for much longer, he’d never allow her to join. He’d never be able to tolerate her in danger if he got any more fond of her.


	2. There Might Be Nazis

Verun stood before Odin, her expression calm and composed. Inside the safety of her own mind, she was scared, of course. No one stood before the AllFather without trepidation, except perhaps his trueborn son, Thor. The only other person that could make that claim and be believed was the dead Frigga.

“So my son still seeks the staff.” Odin’s good eye closed warily, his face long and drawn with sorrow.

“Yes, AllFather, in a place called Tibet.” Verun didn’t lie to Odin for many reasons, the chief of them being that he was paying her money to locate the fugitive Loki. “There is a man who wears an octopus bearing a skull there, who holds the staff in his possession. I believe that Loki is preparing to assault that base and retrieve the staff - or make the attempt.”

“The Scepter must be recovered, Verun.” The AllFather sighed and shifted uncomfortably on the throne. He caught Verun’s eye, pulling the young woman up straight. “If the choice comes between my son and the Scepter, you will follow your primary duty. Understood?”

“I do, Odin.” Verun dipped her head in a visible acknowledgement of her understanding. It wasn’t necessary but it was a nice gesture to the man paying her. It wasn’t his fault that she didn’t like the duty he had set on her, nor would he care. It was a quest and she would do it.

The AllFather gave her a curt nod of dismissal and Verun bowed, turned, and left the throne room. At the door, her two-guard escort fell into step behind her. After her numerous trips to Asgard, she knew the way but it was a courtesy, or a perhaps a sign they didn’t trust her, completely. The Aesir and Vanir were allies yet individuals wove their own fates, sometimes going against the will of their people.

Verun had certainly tired of the will of the Vanir.

The walk to Bifrost was long and she enjoyed the gentle weather. Asgard was always pleasant, unlike the wilder reaches of Vanaheim. Her guards didn’t try to engage her in discussion and she didn’t attempt to talk to them. There was little to be said and they took their duties seriously.

Heimdall waited for her at the gate to the Observatory. “Thank you, Heimdall, for watching my things,” she said, picking up the pack next to the door and slinging it over a shoulder. As she turned to face him, she swept her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “I’m off to Midgard again, back where you picked me up.”

The powerful Aesir smiled fondly at her, his voice rumbling out like summer thunderstorms. “The young prince has moved since your arrival, Verun Aldisdottir. Shall I send you near to him?”

“That would save me some time, yes, my thanks.” Verun was thankful that Loki wasn’t thinking to shield himself from Heimdall, else her task would have been that much further from completion.

“A word of caution: the land called Tibet is cold, at times as cold as the frozen world of Jotunheim. You would be served well to dress for such...circumstances.” Heimdall was Odin’s eyes and ears throughout the nine realms; his knowledge was considered equal to that of the AllFather, if not possibly greater, but he had never given her reason before to wonder how closely he had watched her. His smile was still the same friendly smile, only a small light in his eyes to agree that his words might have deeper meaning.

Verun drew herself up a little more stiffly, her smile fading a touch. She had wondered if the Aesir had known, yet she’d always discounted the idea. She didn’t believe that Odin would have accepted her skills if he’d known who she truly was. Perhaps Odin didn’t know; perhaps Heimdall knew but chose to leave her some privacy. The urge to find out directly was great but she stifled her impulse; that was the type of cruelty her birth mother had engaged in during her life.

Regardless of his knowledge, Heimdall meant well with his advice. Verun dropped her pack and pulled out the heavy fur-lined cloak her adoptive mother had made for her. Every time she pulled it on, she wasn’t sure she should wear it, yet Aldis loved her and so Verun wore it when she was cold. Or when she anticipated being cold.

As she draped it around her body, she glanced at the gatekeeper once again. “Do you have more wisdom for me, Heimdall?”

“Only that secrets are a burden and family a blessing, if you allow it to be.” The gold-clad guardian turned and mounted the dais that controlled the Bifrost, settling his sword into the device and turning it to power the teleporter. “Journey well, Verun Aldisdottir. May you find what you seek.”

His advice had been a little too spot-on and now Verun was sure he knew. Yet she could do nothing about it. “Thank you, Heimdall. May you find what you seek, whatever that might be.” Picking up her pack and drawing up her hood, Verun stepped into the teleporter.

The sense of weightlessness hit immediately, followed by the rushing sensation of being pulled forward. Verun became aware of her feet touching the ground and then she stood in a ring of melted snow. The sigil was burned into the ground around her.

Heimdall was correct - it was cold. Verun pulled her cloak around her, assuring that the ties were tight before she stepped forward. Her boots kept her feet warm even as she sank into deep snow, cresting past her ankles and reaching almost to her knees. Lifting her head, she looked around for Loki. She knew roughly where the base was; it would only take a few hours walk to reach it.

She’d walked less than ten minutes when she found the first mortal body. The throat had been breached by a slim object, severing the main carrier of blood. Verun noted that the mortal wore one of their silly uniforms and that his weapons had been left with the body.

Over the next rise, she found the rest of the men. They had all had their throats cut, and none of their guns were gone. Verun crouched in front of a body, touching it and finding it to be passingly warm. They’d been dead for a bit. She suspected Loki; he would have no need of guns, and he favored knives, particularly when surprised by a patrol of mortals.

She heard a moan. Rising, she followed the sound to one of the mortals. He’d crawled through the snow, and now reached for a small, black box with a long wire. Verun had seen mortals speak to one another through these ‘radios’. Stepping between the man and his goal, she casually kicked the device further away from him.

Moaning, he looked up at her and she knew what he would see: a woman with pale skin, black hair and lean features. She knew that the mortals found her high cheekbones and green eyes very alluring, and her cloak would add an air of otherworldliness. The man gaped at her as if unsure if she were real.

Verun crouched and pressed a finger to his forehead. He gasped as she coaxed the images of the attack to the surface; it wasn’t difficult given the nature of the attack. She saw Loki’s form - unmistakable in his green coat - fighting his way through the men. There had been about twenty men before the adopted Aesir had come through with his magic and knives.

There was more there: who he was and where he had come from, but she disengaged. She wasn’t interested in this mortal’s life. He existed merely to provide her with the needed clues

She wasn’t without mercy, however. Drawing her knife, Verun finished what Loki had failed to do, opening the mortal’s throat and ending his misery. She cleaned her blade, resheathed it, and turned in the direction Loki had gone. Her quarry had passed by recently and she had to catch him by the time he found the staff.

 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later, a Stark satellite passing over the area saw the sigil in the ground and the dead Chinese Army squad. Ten seconds after that sighting, JARVIS was alerted and Tony Stark knew seconds after that.

Stark moved fast when he felt it was necessary.  Minutes after deciding that they needed to bring the Avengers onboard for the mission, the calls went out.  Hawkeye wasn’t contacted; he rarely left Sanctuary unless truly needed, and Tony decided that they wouldn’t need the sharpshooter this time.  He knew that Sanctuary became very nervous when he pulled away their head of security.  

Thor, on the other hand, signaled he was on his way from the underground city.  It should only take him thirty minutes to arrive.  That gave Steve enough time to head downstairs to his quarters and brief Natasha on the situation.  Bucky was deposited in the conference room, alone in the tower, sitting in a comfortable chair and looking lost.  Of course, he didn’t know that he wasn’t really alone, and would never be alone - JARVIS was omnipresent and as watchful as his creator was paranoid.

The wait for Thor allowed Tony Stark to go collect his plus one.  The thirtieth floor laboratory was familiar to Stark, enough so that he was looking down at his phone rather than up at the lone inhabitant of the room when he entered.  “Gear up,” he said briskly.  “We’re headed into the field and I think you’re ready to go with us.  Plus, you get to meet the world’s most horrifying one-armed assassin.  Just call him Lefty.”

Emma let out a surprised noise.  Between her upheld hands the metal pieces of a partially assembled three-dimensional puzzle jerked slightly and then fell from mid-air, clanging loudly as they impacted against the white tile floor.  

“Dammit, Stark!”  She let out an exasperated noise as she knelt down, but instead of gathering the pieces, she waved her hand over them and they lifted up off of the ground, floated up to a nearby counter, and clattered down into a small pile, released suddenly from the magnetic field she had been using to control them.  She glanced up at Tony, a familiar irritated frown creasing her brow.  “What do you mean, gear up?  Going with who?”

“The Avengers.  You might’ve heard of them - they think they’re heroes or something.  They run around in crazy outfits, act like they’re trying to help people, mostly cause a lot of property damage.”  He tapped away at his phone a couple more times, before tucking it in his back pocket and glancing up at her, his voice deadpan.  “Although I hear the guy in the metal suit is pretty hot.”

She rolled her eyes, sweeping the metal puzzle pieces into a felt-lined wooden box and closing the lid.  “You’re insane.  I can’t go out with the Avengers.  I’m not a superhero, I’m a lab rat.  A ticking time bomb.  I do not have adequate control over my abilities, I still don’t know half of what the nanites are capable of, I have no clue how I’ll respond in situations of extreme stress.  It’s entirely possible--”

“That you’re being paranoid and over-cautious?  I agree completely.”  He turned and started towards a door and out of the room, with all the arrogance of a man used to being followed.  

It irritated the hell out of her, but she followed anyway, hurrying to catch up.  “Wait, what’s going on?  Is it serious?”

“We have a visitor here from Asgard...well, Tibet does, anyway.  And since the big guy’s already hanging out on Earth, I’m a little concerned about the other options.”  He strode down a hallway, stopping at a sealed door several labs down.  He stepped onto a small biometric screening pad and waited.  “I would imagine any of his close buddies would have knocked at Thor’s figurative door if they were stopping by to say hi, and anyone else capable of dropping in via the Bifrost Bridge is worth investigating, don’t you think?  Also, I think there might be Nazis.”

“Biometric scan complete.  Miss Thompson, please step onto the scanner for security access calibration.”

He stepped away and gestured to the scanner, and she stepped up onto it instinctively.  It was hard to say no to Jarvis, the AI somehow possessed an air of authority that was disconcerting.  “Nazis -- you mean H.Y.D.R.A.?”  

“Whatever they’re calling themselves these days.  Jarvis, full access for this room for Emma from now on, please.”   The door slid open, and he stepped into the dim laboratory, one she’d never been allowed into before.

“Calibration complete, full access granted.  Would you like the lights, sir?”

“Yes, please.  And bring up the ME-6, Jarvis?”  The room was empty, save for a darkened glass display tube set into the middle of the room.  Suddenly the tint of the glass faded away, revealing a dressed mannequin.  The suit wasn’t altogether unlike Natasha’s - a form-fitting catsuit that zipped up the front, made out of what appeared to be a protective material that still allowed the wearer flexibility.  However, unlike the Black Widow’s monochromatic color scheme, this outfit was done in a deep grey-ish blue, and appeared to have thin strips of actual silver thread embroidered in a complex design throughout the suit.  There was also a pair of knee-high black combat boots with metal accents, and utility belts filled with who only knew what.  However, instead of hip holsters containing guns there were two small metal rods seated in custom-designed holsters strapped to each thigh.  

Tony had been watching her gaze move over the outfit.  He pressed a button on a small stand next to the tube, and it slid open.  “If my testing was correct, the metal woven throughout the suit and on the boots should be spaced to properly support you while allowing you to move yourself via your abilities.”

She turned to him, her brow furrowing as she processed the implication.  “You mean I can--”

“--fly?  That was the plan.  I mean, you’ll probably be flinging yourself haphazardly through the air at first, but practice makes perfect.”  Then he reached in and pulled out one of the rods, holding it out to her.  “It’s a collapsible metal staff, portable and lightweight, but strong.  They won’t bend easily, and you’ll be able to manipulated them with your abilities, allowing you to fight at a distance.  

She took the staff reluctantly, weighing it in her hand.  Of course, he’d insisted on combat training too, martial arts mostly.  Now she understood why, and she shook her head, looking a bit bewildered.  “Tony, this is too much.  I’m not a field agent, not like this.  I’m a lab girl, a computer geek.  An astronaut even, thanks to you.  But... not this.”  Nevertheless, her eyes strayed back to the outfit, and lingered on it a bit longingly.  It really was a thing of beauty.

“I wasn’t Iron Man and I had less training than you did before I put on the suit.”  Tony shrugged.  “I can’t make you, Emma.  But we both know that the world needs every person on deck that it can get.”  He caught her gaze and stared into her eyes intensely.  “We need you.”

She felt her breath hitch, and swallowed quietly.  She'd seen several different sides of Tony Stark over the last several months.  The witty Tony and the cynical Tony, the shrewd businessman and the focused genius.  She'd even seen the flirtatious Tony, though it was a shallow reflection of the suave womanizer that had once made him the media's favorite bad boy bachelor.  Pepper's death had taken that out of him; only those closer to him realized how much.  It was more of a defense mechanism now, a way of keeping people from prying too deeply into that still-raw wound.  

But intense Tony was a force to be reckoned with, and Emma could feel her resolve begin to crumble.  She smiled faintly, her fingers tightening around the metal weapon.  "Well, I suppose if Iron Man says I'm ready, who am I to argue?"

 


	3. Other Stuff

"Are you sure about him, Steve?” Natasha glanced up at her husband, worry in her green eyes.  “Where has he been for two years?”

“He spent seventy being in cryo-sleep or used as a mindless assassin.  I think that he deserves a bit of time to figure himself out.”  Steve paused in the hallway, stopping her with a hand on her arm.  “Look, Tasha, it’s Bucky.  He’s been through hell and I’ll admit he isn’t the man I grew up with anymore.  But it is him, and he’s my friend.  I want to be there for him, to help him.  I promised.”

“You and your promises are going to get you killed.”  There was no rancor in the Black Widow’s voice; she’d known who she was marrying.  “Fine but if he makes one wrong move, he’s really going to be a one-armed wonder.”

“Thank you.”  Steve gave her a quick kiss, coupled with that smile that made her glad to give him what he wanted.   He took her hand as they continued down the hall, though he dropped it at the door to the conference room.  They’d agreed to keep the PDA to a minimum on missions.

As the door smoothly opened, Bucky started in his chair.  “Were you asleep?” Steve asked, his tone mixed with concern and amusement.

“No, I was resting my eyes.”  The statement was their old unit’s code for “yes, I did absolutely fall asleep when I shouldn’t have”.  Bucky blinked blearily as he rose, eyeing the woman who’d entered the room.  It wasn’t inappropriate but assessing and wary.

Steve didn’t give his friend a chance to remember the two times he’d met the Black Widow.  “Buck, this is my wife, Natasha.  Natasha, Bucky.”

Buck looked surprised before breaking into a huge grin.  He looked so much like the old Buck that it hurt.  Holding his hand out, the former assassin said, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“We’ve met.  You put a bullet in me.  Twice.”  Natasha didn’t take the hand but she managed a cold smile.  “Well, through me twice.”

Bucky had stiffened at her words; it took him a second to gather himself enough to speak.  “Um.  I’m sorry.  I don’t really remember.  I am sorry for what I did, though.”

“I’m not mad about it anymore.  But I wanted you to know that if this is an elaborate ploy to hurt Steve or my friends, I will beat you to death with your own arm.”  Natasha smiled wider, like a cat grinning at the mouse.  “Are we good?”

“Uhh, sure.”  Bucky cleared his throat and took his seat again.  Now that he focused on those hated memories, he recalled a redheaded woman on the bridge…

Lost in the past, he didn’t really register when the door opened again, though Stark’s voice brought his attention back to the present.

The billionaire entered the room already in conversation with Emma, who had the tolerant expression of someone caught up in a Tony-monologue.  “-which lead the Senator to drop his soap, if you know what I mean, right in front of the Senate committee.  Yeah, I miss the days when politicians made it easy for me.”  He looked around the room and said, “Look at that.  We beat the big guy.  The little woman must have needed him to approve a setting or pick a cake.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute,” Steve replied, looking faintly bemused.  He stepped forward and held out a hand to the scientist at Tony’s side.  “Emma, good to have you with us.”

“Thanks, Steve.”  She returned the handshake, trying not to look too self-conscious in the new, and very unfamiliar outfit.  She greeted Natasha, who flashed her a wry smile, before her gaze rested on Bucky.  “And you must be…”  

She trailed off with the realization that Tony never gave her an actual name, and both of the things she knew to call this man would most likely be construed as horribly offensive.  Fortunately, Steve noticed her hesitation and stepped in, salvaging the introduction as best as he could.  “Emma, this is a friend of mine... Bucky Barnes.  We know each other from… way back.  Bucky, this is Emma Thompson.”

“Ma’am.”  Bucky took her hand, which seemed normal to her.  His other arm looked whole, too, though Emma caught a glint of silver between his cuff and glove.  Aside from that, he seemed normal, if a bit reserved and in need of a haircut and shave.  She’d gotten used to Tony’s precisely trimmed facial hair and hundred-dollar haircuts.

There was a moment of silence before Tony said, “Drinks?”

“Before a mission?” Bucky asked, looking concerned.

“Non-alcoholic.”  Tony smirked at the other man.  “Contrary to popular belief, I do have some ability to discern when it’s appropriate to drink.  Anyone interested in a Fuzzy Nipple?”  He glanced at Bucky, “Or should I say a Hairy Lady-breast-part?”

“Tony.”  Steve looked at him.

“Just trying to make Lefty feel comfortable.  I remember what it’s like to break a 1950’s man in to the modern century.”  Tony grinned.  “Though I think Natasha had more to do with that than I did.”

“You know I don’t discuss my sex life, Stark.”  Natasha had on one of her cool smiles that expressed nothing yet implied whatever the person wanted to see.  

A thump on the balcony outside drew all eyes to the man who had just landed there.  Thor was armored for battle, hammer in hand, as he opened the outer door.  “Hey, big guy,” Tony said in greeting.  “I was about to call you and see if you needed rescuing from a Gordian knot of lace and taffeta.”  

“Nay, Jane merely wished to send me off with a warrior’s farewell.”   Thor looked a little too pleased with himself.

“And that doesn’t mean sex, either, Tony.”  Natasha cut off the brilliant inventor before he could do more than open his mouth.

“Now I’m curious.”  Tony looked speculatively at the blond Asgardian but a second later shook his head.  “Business first, probing, nosey questions after.  JARVIS, can you please show us what you saw?”

“Yes, Sir.” A holographic image of the Bifrost’s unmistakable footprint appeared on the screen.  Thor sobered immediately.  

“Expecting company?” Tony asked.

“No. 

“This is less than twenty miles from the base that Barnes came to notify us about.  Less than two miles from the Bifrost sigil, we also found an entire Chinese squad dead.  They were in the direct path to Von Strucker’s base, so it’s safe to say that someone from Asgard is on the move.”   The mortal watched Thor closely as he asked, “Any idea who would come from your home turf like this?”

The blond man shook his head.  “I know of no one who would have any interest in Midgard besides my brother, and he does not need the Bifrost.”

“So we have a potentially hostile force-”

“Heimdall would not allow anyone to use the Bifrost without my father’s say.”  Thor looked thoughtful.  “If my father has found Loki, he might have sent someone to retrieve him.”

“So we can add ‘catch the Destroyer of Manhattan’ to the list of things to do there.  JARVIS, show them what we’re up against.”  Tony glanced around the room, even as JARVIS created a three-dimensional display of the base and its surroundings.  “As you can see, we only have intel on the exterior of the base.  Cap, call the strategy.”

As Tony went behind the bar to make himself a small drink, Steve stepped to the hovering hologram, pointing to details on it as he spoke.  “Thor, Emma, and Iron Man should hold themselves at three miles out, while Bucky, Natasha, and I slip in close.  The three of us will engage the enemy and the rest of you can come in once the fireworks are started.

“Any questions?”

Thor frowned slightly, a flicker of doubt on his face.  "Should I not accompany you inside, in case my brother is within?"

"You're close by if need be, but I'd like to get a good look first - figure out what we're dealing with," Steve answered easily.

Thor nodded in agreement, and Tony clapped his hands together once, firmly.  "Great.  Jarvis, the jet's ready to go?" 

"Yes sir." 

* * *

Zoe had learned to pass the time by playing through the classics in her mind. Mozart in piano, Bach on the violin, even the occasional movement she remembered for the flute. It gave her a little peaceful place in the cold, clammy cell and gave her some sense of the passage of time. Today it was a Moonlight Sonata and three Mozart symphonies between the morning meal and when the doctors came.

At least, they called themselves doctors. They absolutely _were_ kidnappers, jailors, and abusers, but they _called_ themselves doctors. Her heart sank and  she leaned back against the cold stone wall when she saw it was Dr. Ona and  her assistant, the nervous Dr. Imus. Ona was short but all sharp angles and slow, cruel smiles; Imus, on the other hand, was tall and dusky-skinned, a trace of India still bending his words in English. He smiled at her from behind the diminutive Ona and Zoe fought down a burst of anger.

_How dare he pretend to be nice to me? To care? He doesn’t. None of them do._

Ona quirked a brow and glanced back at Imus, giving him a dismissive once over. “Never mind him, pet. You’ll have another toy to play with today.”

Zoe’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach at that. With Ona, there was always the damn staff, but she didn’t always have someone for Zoe to torture. _It’s not **me**. It’s not. It’s...it’s her and that **thing** they use on me._

The offending object was cradled lovingly in the doctor’s arms. She ran her hands over the etchings on the metal, her fingers stopping just short of the glowing blue gem set into the head of the staff. “Now,” she drawled with barely contained enthusiasm, “are you going to behave today or do we have to hold you down?”

Zoe braced her hands on the metal edge of her cot. Fighting was useless and it was just too creepy how much Dr. Ona seemed to enjoy it. It wasn’t really Ona that she had to save her strength for, anyways. She watched as other woman lowered the tip  of the staff towards her chest; when it touched it felt like a shockwave through her body. Not cold or hot, but powerful; it beat against her mind, and Zoe pushed back with every ounce of her will. For a moment, even maybe an entire second, she held fast. A second push crumbled her defenses and she fell into a swirling blue abyss.

 


	4. Marvelous Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's MalachiteDrake's birthday, and she wanted to put up the next chapter, so here you go! There will the regular update on Friday, so today is birthday bonus!

Loki sauntered through the underground base, invisible to the inhabitants.  As he walked, dodging scurrying humans, he amused himself with silent, mocking commentary on the experiments he saw being performed.  The humans were so droll, with their childish attempts to explore the world.  They poked and played and thought themselves so wise with thoughts that an Asgardian toddler would find simple.  Plus, they only looked to the world they could see and thought that was all there was for them.

It was pathetic.  Fortunately, he had a good sense of humor about their feeble attempts.  Additionally, he was close to his goal, closer than he had been in months, and that put him in a good mood.

_The sceptre._

Just thinking about it brought waves of anticipation and anxiety.  Loki had once loved that device, to the point that being parted from it had caused him pain.  That pain had eased and ceased with time, and now that he knew its truth, he would be able to resist its lure again.  The only thing he didn’t know is if the Other could reach through it if he were holding it.  He would need a plan to carry it out but he wanted to see its situation, first.  

No, in truth, he needed to see if he could stand being around it and not touch it.  He wasn’t sure if he could, for the sceptre’s control over its victims was strong.  He could feel its call, from across the planet.  He needed to be its master long enough to tear it apart for its secrets.

 _There._  A door marked E79.  Loki slid up next to it, listening.  After a moment, he admitted defeat in his attempt to eavesdrop; the stone walls and metal door effectively blocked sound.  With a surge of his will, he made the door appear unchanged - blending it with his own illusion of not being there - and entered the room.  

Four beings were in the lab.  A cell made of thick glass on the back wall held the subject being tested, while various equipment allowed for “scientific measurements”.  The two with their backs to him wore the white coats that were the uniforms for their researchers.  Sitting limply in a wheeled chair was a young local man, his features blank and eyes unfocused.  The test subject was a young human of the type found in his other wanderings through Midgard, her skin pale and her eyes large.  Those eyes were covered with the blue that the sceptre gave its victims.  Oddly, her hair was as white as an old woman’s, yet her delicate features were not lined with age.

She looked right at him.  A slight furrow of confusion crossed her forehead, before the woman snapped, “Focus!”

Loki frowned at her.   _Does she really see me?_  If so, that was both troubling and fascinating.  He’d yet to meet a mortal who could see through his illusions.  There were even Asgardians who were fooled every time; thankfully, his brother remained one of them.  Hesitantly, he waved at her, trying to get her attention again.

Her blue-stained eyes flicked to him.  “You can see me,” he murmured, disturbed and delighted.

The male researcher turned and looked at him--or rather _through_ him.  Clearly, he couldn’t see, and if Loki had remembered to hide his voice, he couldn’t have heard him either.  After a second, the researcher glanced away, disinterested.  He had only heard the barest of noises and not enough to alarm him.

The man’s turn had revealed the sceptre to Loki, held in the woman’s hands.  Just the sight of it was enough to awaken longing in him but he found that he could walk away, if he wished.  Enough of this.  It is time to reclaim my item.  

He cloaked the whisper of the knife as it left his sheath.  The godling targeted the woman first; she was the wielder of the sceptre.  Loki had no desire to give his heart to that blue gem.

Two quick steps put him behind her.  Still cloaked, Loki reached around her shoulders, clamped his hand on the back of her skull, and sliced the blade across her throat.  The sceptre fell from her fingers as she reached up and grabbed at her wounded neck but she could do nothing to save herself.  Loki shoved her away from him, sending her sprawling over the man in the chair.

Turning to the male researcher, he prepared to be attacked.  Instead, the man backpedaled from the black-haired monster, his hands held helplessly before him.  “Please don’t hurt me!”

Loki’s lips curled in disgust.  “Weak, puny human.”  He chased him down to a corner, wrinkling his nose when he caught the sour scent of urine.  It was a relief to stab him in the chest, opening a lung and remove his ability to whine - and live.

The godling turned toward the man in the chair.  The girl in the cell made a grabbing motion and _something_ seized Loki’s heart.  He gasped for air even as the strong muscle attempted to beat and was still blocked.  His face twisted with fear and anger, and he took a staggering step toward the cell.

The blue haze covering her mind snapped back under her control. She remembered everything – she always remembered, even when she tried not to – but it took a moment for the memories to make sense.

Ona ordering her to stop the heart of the broken man, then start it again. And stop and start and over and  over again until the man’s mind broke completely from terror and he simply stared at the ceiling and shook as she tortured him. He was one of the strong ones; it was taking hours for him to die.

But something was different now. He was fighting back. No…not him. Someone else. The man in black and green. The one that had killed Ona. And Imus. He was staggering towards her glass cage now, his face turning an ashen blue. _He isn’t one of them **them**. Is he? He killed them. They’re killers…_

_He’s dying._

The last thought startled her from her jumbled reverie and she loosened her telekinetic grip on his heart. He staggered a step further, and she didn’t feel the flutter of moving muscle against whatever eldritch sense it was that she possessed. She stepped up to the glass, pressing her hands against the cold, smooth surface. Hesitantly she reached out again and for the first time not under the control of the staff, she gently pulsed a heart back to life.

“Please don’t die. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. _I’m sorry._ ” She pressed her forehead against the glass, fighting a rising tide of panic. “Please, _live_.”

The adopted Aesir took a breath free of pain and straightened, taking a second look at the woman behind the glass.   _She did that.  She stopped my heart._

_What a marvelous gift._

“That is what I get for rescuing you, I guess?”  Despite his words, he kept his tone light and teasing.  

“Rescue….me?” The words were whispered with such an intense longing that Loki smiled. Desire could always be manipulated.

“Of course.  And to make sure that these villains don’t have access to this device.”  Loki motioned to the spectre on the floor.  His expression shifted to curious.  “How did you almost kill me?”

Zoe tried not to, but giggles, edged with a fair dollop of hysterics, bubbled up out of her before she could stop them. _Who says ‘villains’ like that?_ “Um...I just sort of….” She shrugged, making a reaching motion with her hands. “I don’t really know. It’s just something that started happening.Who...who are you?” She hesitated, then motioned to the electronic lock on the cell. “Maybe we could figure that all out after, y’know, getting the hell out of here?”

“Hel has nothing to do with my actions.”  He gave her a charming smile as he examined the lock closer.  After a moment, he picked up Ona’s corpse by the back of the neck.  With inhuman ease, he held her head in front of the mechanism and pried her eyelid open.  The red light turned green and buzzed softly.  Tossing the body aside, her rescuer swung open the door and gestured with a dramatic bow.  “You are free.”

She hesitated again, a little off-put by the show of inhuman strength, and then belatedly by the mistreatment of a corpse. _Then again, the bitch totally deserved it._ She stepped out and glanced at the door to the room. She knew three hallways and maybe a half-dozen rooms of wherever this was. None of them had windows. “So...how are we getting out of here? Where exactly is here?”

Loki choked back a desire to have the matter of his prize settled immediately.  “Here is a place called ‘Tibet’.”  The name was unfamiliar to him and his tongue but he mostly managed to say it correctly.  “We shall have to walk.  Will you be able to brave the snows and distance?”

She blanched at his news; she had guessed she was somewhere remote, but halfway across the world hadn’t been her first thought. Glancing down at her thin shirt and pants and  her distinct lack of shoes, she shook her head. “Not dressed like this. I’ll freeze in the first five minutes,  especially if it’s winter.” She looked away from him and softly added, “I’m not really sure how long it’s been.”

“It is cold.”   Her rescuer smiled.  “No matter.  We will find clothing for you.  The guards will have boots and coats.  If you can drive one of the mortal vehicles-”

A distant roar echoed through the walls of the room.  Loki paused, his expression shifting.  “Perhaps someone is doing the work for us.  Can you safely carry the sceptre?  If so, I can hide us from them and we can slip out.”

Her eyes slid over to the staff and it skittered a few inches away from her; she started and then flushed in embarrassment. Gingerly, she picked her way over to it, then cast about for something to wrap her hands in so she wouldn’t have to actually touch it. She tugged the lab coat off of Imus’ body and clumsily wound it around the staff, carrying it delicately and with obvious aversion. After just a few seconds, she began to frown and shake her head; her eyes began to flicker blue and she threw the sceptre down from her arms.

“No,” she breathed heavily, “I can’t carry that damn thing. Can’t we just smash it apart or something?”

“I don’t think so.”  He watched her for a moment. “You moved it a moment ago, without touching it.  Are you not able to do that now?”

She blinked and shrugged. “I can try. I haven’t done stuff like that except when...when it wasn’t me. I don’t know how much is me and how much is the staff.” Her brow knit in concentration and the staff wobbled again, eventually rising nearly a foot off the floor and  floating to a point between the two of them. Zoe let out a small laugh of amazement. “I don’t know how long I can keep this up, so we’d better get going.”

Her rescuer smiled and she was reminded of a fox in his wide grin.  “Excellent.”  He moved to the door, then paused and turned back to her.  “What should I call you?”

“Zoe,” she said quickly, a smile finally coming to her lips at how _human_ she felt when he asked for her name. Not ‘pet’ or ‘prisoner’ or ‘girl’. She was _Zoe_. “Zoe Satelle. And you?”

“I am Loki.”  He gave her another vulpine grin.  “You are safe with me, Zoe Zoe Satelle.”

“Uh, just Zoe is fine. Satelle’s my last name.” She gave him a sideways look, waiting for him to lead the way out. “You’re...you speak English very well, but you’re not from the US are you?”

He laughed as if she’d told a joke.  “No, I’m not from the U.S.  I’m from much further away.”  

“We’re in Tibet,” she interjected with surprise, “how much further away can you get?”

“Maybe I’ll show you, someday.”  He opened the door and motioned for her to follow.  “Stay close.”

She was glad he had turned away and missed her blush. _He’s just the first nice person I’ve seen since this nightmare began. That’s it. Really. Stop staring at him. Seriously._ She followed him out into the hallway, muttering, “Close. Right. I can do that.”


	5. Good Men

Bucky lay on his belly in the snow, glad that Steve was between him and Natasha.  He was prepared to love her because Steve loved her, but she had threatened him and he had shot her.  Twice.  That was a hard thing to overcome.

“Buck, Tasha.  Look.”  Steve pointed past the binoculars to the cave entrance.  They were currently backing a tanker truck into the cave.  He handed the binoculars to his wife.  “Is that symbol what I think it is?”

Natasha peered through them then smiled.  “Flammable.”

“Bucky, do you have any grenades?” Steve asked.

“Didn’t you use them all on SHIELD?” Natasha looked past her husband with a smirk.

“No grenades,” Bucky admitted, ignoring her snark.  

Steve handed him one and smiled.  “I think you know what to do with that.  Tasha, you go with him.”  He disregarded both of their looks.  “I’m going to come around on the other side and start knocking them down after you’ve started things.”

Natasha and Bucky moved together as Steve slipped off to the side.  “He’s totally trying to get us to bond, isn’t he?” Natasha whispered as they crept closer.

Bucky smiled at her hesitantly.  “Probably.  That’s the way Steve thinks.”  

“It takes a bit more than shooting guns together to get me to the warm and fuzzy part of a relationship.”  Natasha’s green eyes met Bucky’s baby blues.  “Especially with you.  You hurt Steve - a lot.  I’m really not okay with that.”

“Neither am I, ma’am.”  Bucky put all his sincerity into his words and gaze, willing her to understand his position.  “I know I need to fix it.”

Natasha nodded.  “You head for the truck; I’ll cover you.”

His instincts didn’t like that but he rose to his feet and started the run.  The first fifty feet were easy; it took the soldiers that long to notice him.  Sloppy, he thought, even as he remembered the drudgery of guard duty.  Staying on high alert mentally for hours was difficult.   The soldiers started to fire and Bucky pulled out a pistol, ready to return the favor.

The guard closest to him went down with a hole in his chest; Natasha was doing as she said she would.  The next fifty feet were only slightly less harrowing as the guards fired at him and Natasha both.  Bucky tossed the grenade from his left hand to his right, holding up the arm to protect him from bullets as he closed.  The soldier held his ground as the metal-armed man approached him, getting clotheslined with the hard limb for his bravery.

The truck was close enough at that point and Bucky tossed the round incendiary device and raced for cover behind a stack of crates.  He heard men screaming and panicking in Chinese; then the world turned into fire and heat and a skull-pounding roar.

On top of the cliff, the other three members saw the explosion a split second before they heard the roar.  Thor jumped up and began to spin Mjölnir, preparing for flight.  “That looks like fire working to me.”

“Fireworks, big guy.  And yes, I would definitely say that qualifies as engaged.”  Tony fired up his suit, lifting up off the ground and into the air.  Thor released the pent-up energy and launched himself, without any further ado, towards the conflict.  Emma stared for a moment, watching the two of them fly off and wondering what to do.

_Oh yeah.. I can fly, too!_

She shook her head slightly in disbelief, but she could hear the shouts of combat, so she reached out with the power of the nanites coursing through her body, and lifted herself up into the air via a magnetic force field.  She wavered slightly, but then propelled herself quickly, if a little shakily, towards combat.

And combat it was.  Though many of Hydra’s soldiers - their identity confirmed now by the badges on their armor - had fled the initial chaos of the explosion, they had returned to dole out their own punishment.  It was a testament to the skill and abilities of the engaging members of the Avengers that they had been holding their own against the sheer number of soldiers that had begun to pour out of the compound.  But with Iron Man and Thor present, Emma could see that the fight was well and truly on.  Of course, getting into the compound was the primary goal, but several of the soldiers had blockaded the door with a metal door and various other debris from the explosion, and were doing their best to hold off the invaders.

“We need an entrance!” Steve called out in the direction of the new arrivals, ducking behind his shield to dodge a barrage of bullets.  

“No problem,” Tony replied, and lifted his arm.  He fired a small-range missile from the forearm of the Iron Man suit, and the building shook slightly with the force of the explosion.  Once the smoke had cleared, there was a sizable enough hole in the concrete wall that no amount of debris was going to block.  Behind the mask, Tony grinned as he called out to the others.  “You know I love a good entrance.”

It didn’t take much for the group to mop up the stragglers outside, and within moments the six of them were standing inside the Hydra compound, glancing around cautiously.  

“Well, here we are,” Bucky commented dryly.  “Now what?”

“This way.”  Steve pointed to doors at the back of the room.  “Tony, Thor, you lead the way.  Emma, you’re with me next, and Bucky and Natasha will bring up our tails.”

“You got it.”  Iron Man shot forward in a burst of speed, pausing outside the door to let Thor join him.  The suited hero was first; they’d learned long ago that Iron Man could take damage pretty easily, followed by Thor, so those two led the group into the complex.

Emma hovered nervously next to Captain America and it suddenly struck her that she was _fighting with the Avengers!_  A sort of giddy disbelief shot through her, and she couldn’t help it - she actually laughed.  Steve shot her a confused look, and she blushed slightly, looking embarrassed.  “Sorry, I--”

“Watch out!” he shouted, as another member of Hydra sprung up behind her, sending a spray of bullets in Emma and the Captain’s direction.  Instinctively, she flung her hand up in the air, stopping the deadly metal projectiles with the gesture and scattering them onto the ground.  Before anyone else could jump in to rescue her, she threw one of her metal staves at the enemy soldier, and it whipped through the air in an arc and struck him across the back of the skull, knocking him unconscious.  

“Not bad,” Steve said, arching a brow at the downed man and the scattered bullets.  Emma offered a faint smile back, and they pressed on.

The first intersection proved the validity of their formation yet again.  A blue light lanced out of the left-hand corridor and struck Iron Man in the side.  Tony grunted over the comms but turned and fired an answering blast of white light.  In the tight spaces of the hallways, it was difficult to miss.  For good measure, he shot a beam down the right hand passage, while Thor checked each, his hammer ready to be thrown.

“All personnel, we are under attack.”  The crisp German voice over the PA system, echoing in the stone corridors.  “Siege protocols are in order.  Repeat: siege protocols are to be instigated by all personnel.”  A click signaled the end of the message.

“What’s that mean?” Bucky asked, his voice nervous.

“Only HYDRA knows.”  Natasha was far calmer than the one-armed man, showing her normal detachment.

“A hundred dollars says they’re holing up in rooms and attacking us as we find them.”  Stark held his hands before him as he slowly moved forward in the air.  The corridor became a massive room, filled with artillery, tanks, and personnel.  Turrets swiveled toward them.  “Or they’re going to get together in one room and ambush us.”

Captain America didn’t call orders; he didn’t need to.  The first and most obvious action everyone took was to scatter into smaller groups.  Thor and Iron Man went up and forward; the godling landed among the tanks and began to lay waste to them.  Stark stayed in the air, shooting tanks and airborne missiles alike.

Emma froze only a second before Steve grabbed her arm.  “With me!” he shouted as they ran toward the right, heading for a machine gun barricade.  The gunners shot at them but Steve raised his shield and the bullets around him never found their mark.  The ones near Emma she stopped almost instinctively.

Natasha and Bucky went left.  He held his arm before him, protecting himself.  After a second, he realized that she had slipped in behind him and was using him as a shield.  She leaned around him, firing shots off at men they were charging. 

 

* * *

 

The sounds of combat became more steady and louder as they progressed through the complex.  A distinctive ringing metallic noise made Loki flinch at one point.  “What was that?” Zoe asked nervously.

“Mjolnir.”  Loki didn’t seem in the mood to elaborate and since his explanations rarely made sense to Zoe anyway, she didn’t ask.  Instead, she just stayed close to him, focusing on keeping the sceptre in motion with them.  The guards running by didn’t seem to see them, though one of them almost touched Zoe at one point.  

Their hallway became a big room, filled with a scene of pure chaos.  Soldiers in black uniforms raced through the room, converging on three clusters of fighters.  “We’ll walk close to the wall,” Loki told her as he turned to the right and began to circle the edge of the room.  “Stay silent and close, and I will guard you.”  He gave her another charming smile.  “I’ll see you out safe, m’lady.”

The moment was ruined when a man in blue, white and red appeared on the edge of the melee.  A single powerful kick lifted a black-suited soldier and threw him right into Loki and his charming smile.  The two of them tumbled to the floor in a heap of limbs.  Two nearby soldiers started and stared and Zoe had the sinking feeling they were now visible.

Loki picked himself up off the ground and turned to Zoe.  “Hide yourself and the sceptre!”  He turned back to the fight, green eyes finding the multicolored soldier with murder in their depths.  “I’ll deal with this.”

Zoe gave him a frightened nod and scurried into a dark corner of the large room. She’d nearly dropped the sceptre when Loki had been hit and her head was starting to pound from adrenaline and strain. Curling up in the relatively dark space was nearly a welcome refuge from the strain of sneaking by people that absolutely _should_ have been able to see them. So long as no one noticed her now, at least.

A woman ducked in behind her and sat in the entrance to her hiding hole.  Like Loki, she had dark, straight hair, green eyes and cheekbones to kill for.  There was a bloodied knife in her hands, and patches of blood on her fur cloak.  “Hello,” she murmured softly.  “I see you carry the Chitauri sceptre for Loki Odinson.”

Zoe pressed back against the wall, her eyes wide with fear. “Uh…” The sceptre was leaning against the wall at the moment, within hands reach of both women, but Zoe had let go of it with her telekinesis just to have a moment’s rest. She reached back out, invisibly taking control of it again. “What….what do you want?”

The woman made no movement toward the magic device.  “Loki and the sceptre.  I mean you no ill will, and would gladly give you to Midgard’s heroes.”

“Like hell you will!” Zoe retorted hotly. “I’m not being _given_ to anyone!” Her mental grip on the sceptre tightened and it tapped quickly against the wall. “Get away from me!” she shouted, her hands balling into fists as she prepared to have to fight the strange woman.

The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly.  “You seem to misunderstand my intent.  I will not harm you, and I cannot force you or the Odinson to take the sceptre to a place of safety.  You do know that Loki is not a good man?”

“Lady, I don’t think there are _any_ good men in a place like this.” _Or apparently anyone that makes any damn sense._ “But he saved me and so far that puts him a goodly bit higher than you in my eyes.”

She tried to see around the woman to the fighting in the room, but just like the conversation in this dungeon, none of what she saw made sense. There were people in black uniforms fighting Loki and a half dozen other people, most of whom she only caught quick glimpses of. Some of them seemed to be flying. The strangers also seemed to be fighting Loki, which seemed entirely unfair in Zoe’s mind. One man ran past the corner they were crouched in, a large round shield strapped to his arm.

“Wait, was that Captain America?” her question came out in a startled squeak. _I am so losing my mind._

“Yes, I believe that is what the mortals call him.”  The woman remained seated against the wall, watching Zoe and the battle in turns.  “He and Loki are not friends and he is likely to look poorly on a friend of Loki.”  She sighed deeply and said, “I shall have to convince him otherwise, since the Allfather has charged me to see to his son’s safety.”

“The Allfather?” _This is absurd. I’m in the middle of a battle and Captain America is here and I’m sitting in a corner **chatting**. Better than getting stabbed, I guess._

“Yes.  The King of Asgard and father of Loki and Thor.  He employed me to return Loki and the Chitauri sceptre to him, so that he can free Loki of its influence.”  The woman shifted slightly, looking out into the fight.  “The sceptre - it binds minds to itself and is dangerous to even handle.  It is good you can carry it without touch.  Is this a gift of your realm?”

Zoe peered at the woman. “You say the words and individually I know what all of them mean, but you make no sense. Except the staff...sceptre...whatever. Evil fucking thing of mind fuckery. It hasn’t been used on Loki, though. At least, not recently. He’s not all zombie-eyed.” She blinked and added, “Wait, what? He’s a prince? What am I, stuck in the most fucked up Disney movie ever?” She flushed and mumbled to herself, “I should really stop cussing so much.”

The woman frowned slightly.  “Yes, Loki is a prince, though…”  She stopped and shook her head.  “It is up to him to tell you of his failings in regard to the Asgardian throne.  I would strike a deal with you - if I help him now, and I see you to some place safe, will you help me to convince him that his father means him no ill will and only wants to see him healed of the staff’s influence?”

The white-haired woman frowned and shrugged. “All I could tell him is that the staff really fu- uh, messes with your head, and that you said all of that. I don’t know that it’s true and I’m not going to lie to the first person who’s treated me like an actual human being in however long it’s been that I’ve been down in this hellhole.”

“May I show you my sincerity?”  The strange woman asked the question flatly with no inflection to give Zoe an idea of what she meant.

“That sounded super creepy and possibly like a come-on, just so you know.” Zoe shook her head and then shrugged. “Sure, but if you do something creepy or come at me, I’m probably going do something lethal to you. Just fair warning.”

“Wise warning.  I will be gentle.”  The woman relaxed a little more deeply into her seat.  “I am called Verun.”  

Zoe opened her mouth to give her own name in an ingrained response only she was somewhere else.  The throne room was gilded in gold and light.  An old man sat on the massive chair, his face lined with sadness.  There was no sound but Zoe felt his love for his sons.  This knowledge was dropped into her mind, full-born there without having experienced it.  Yet she knew somehow that Verun had seen this man and felt his sorrow and love.  

“He wants his sons home.”  Verun cleared her throat as the image faded; now she seemed uncomfortable, setting aside her knife to rub her hands together as if cold.  “I swear to you on my father and his ancestors, this is true.”

“Holy sh- what the hell was that?” Zoe was blinking back both tears and panic. Had the woman really gotten in her mind? _What the hell **is** this place?_ She was trembling again, a new rush of adrenaline leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. “H-how did you do that?”

“Magic, learned from… my mother.”  Verun picked up her knife again and rose.  “Will you tell him what you saw?  I can show Loki but his magics deal in trickery and lies, and I do not know if he will believe me.  You… I’ve never known him to help a mortal before, for any reason.  Perhaps he’s become fond of you, much as the Thunderer with Jane Foster.”

“Again with the words and the not making sense.” Zoe scrubbed at her face, just ready for the insane day - the insane years to finally be over. “But, um, yeah. I’ll tell him what I saw. The sad man on the throne in the golden room.”

“Then I shall fight for him.  Excuse me, Zoe.”  Verun turned to the battle, drew a deep breath, and started toward the combat.  The knife in her hands began to grow, its hilt expanding until she carried a spear, not a knife.

 


	6. Women

“I found Loki.” Steve’s dry comment was delivered to everyone’s comms by their encrypted system.

“He is present?” Thor’s voice was mingled with worry and eagerness; Steve understood Thor’s complex feelings on the matter much better after discovering that Bucky was still alive.

“Yep. Just threw a HYDRA agent into him on accident. He’s pissed about it.” Steve ducked a blue cannon shot and threw his shield at his attacker. As it bounced off and came back to his hand, he added, “Emma, I’d prefer if you didn’t engage Loki. His magics make him a little tough and I would rather tangle with him while you keep HYDRA off us.”

“No problem,” she replied, turning her attention towards Hydra’s artillery. First she disarmed an approaching group of HYDRA soldiers, ripping their guns out of their hands and flinging them away from their wielders. She heard the noise of bullets ricocheting off of the Captain’s shield, and followed the source of the sound to a tripod-mounted M240 machine gun being fired from soldiers who’d sought refuge in an armoured vehicle. She focused on the gun itself, and without quite realizing what she was doing, she willed it to stop. She saw the barrel of the gun crumple as it was firing, and the backfire and subsequent miniature explosion echoed loudly inside the vehicle, along with the screams from the men on the now-receiving end.

Steve glanced over at the commotion, then threw Emma a quick thumbs-up. He gestured towards the HYDRA cannon, and she saw that the soldier Steve had dispatched was being pulled away from the weapon so it could be remanned. Before they could get to it however, Emma gestured with a twist of her hand. Across the room, the barrel of the powerful cannon twisted like a wet towel. The soldier who had been about to man the weapon let out a yell and a string of curses, falling backwards in surprise as the cannon was wrenched off of it’s base by the same invisible force. Then she sent it flying through the air, past Thor and Tony and into another group of soldiers across the room.

“Wow,” Tony muttered, low enough for only Thor to hear. “Remind me not to piss her off.”

“Sound advice for any woman,” Thor agreed with a wide grin.

Verun angled across the battle, working her way to Loki’s side. The first guard to intercept her found that she was well-versed in fighting with the spear; she brought the blunt end up to connect with his head. She aimed for the narrow space between his shoulder and helmet, and the butt of the spear smashed into his cheek and broke bones in his face. The shock drove the man to his knees and she reversed the spear and drove the head between his ribs.

A blast of lightning and roar of thunder drew Verun’s attention to a figure in red and black with long, blond hair. . . _Thor is here._ That opened up more possibilities for her, and she changed her path across the battlefield. Soon, she found herself amongst the metal war machines with the long cannons on their fronts.

A man jumped out at her, his blue-light cannon pointed at her. Verun touched his mind quickly, just long enough to know to roll to the right. She came up on one knee, thrusting her spear as she rose, slicing through his ineffective armor into his belly. He screamed as she twisted the head and withdrew her weapon in a slashing motion, opening up more of his torso. The eviscerated soldier grabbed at his intestines and Verun left him there.

There were other minds, both in the tanks and around it. She touched each one, rapidly flicking against their current thoughts and back out again. Interestingly, most of those outside the war machines were afraid of her. There were two who were not her enemy, and Verun noted them in passing. She was more interested in Thor.

Something small and round rolled toward her. Verun eyed the small device, seeing no danger from the ball. It stopped a few feet away from her and she watched it warily, waiting for it to unfold and attempt to damage her.

“Get down!” A form slammed into her as the warning was yelled, and Verun was swept the floor, the spear knocked from her grasp. Two arms wrapped around her, one hand curling around her head protectively as they rolled to the side of the war machine. An explosion filled the air and Verun huddled against the man, away from the fire. Curiously, his hand on the back of her head was null to her, not allowing for the automatic mental connection that happened with touch. When she curled in closer, her forehead brushed his chin, and that was enough.

 _A man wearing red, white and blue, a little brother and a leader._ The two juxtapositions were odd enough to her but to the man, they were further confused with guilt and pain and memories of trying to kill the man and the redheaded woman bound to the colorful hero with rings. There was a flag of similar colors, the skull with the many arms, and an arm of silver. So many of the man’s symbols were alien to her and she understood only the ring. Oath rings were common in Asgard, and given the age of the man and woman, likely wedding rings. She also understood that her rescuer had once been so confused he’d tried to kill his friend and his wife. It was in part that guilt that drove him to be a better man - guilt and a desire to make his friend proud of him.

As always, Verun felt as if she were prying into that which wasn’t hers. It was far too intimate a thing to share with a stranger and Verun fought the urge to push him away. The heat kept her close; she was more afraid of fire than of invading his privacy.

His head lifted as the flames and roar faded. He had blue eyes, currently filled with concern. “Lady, are you okay?”

Verun frowned. “I am not an okay nor nobility.”

He pushed himself a little higher off of her, his face perplexed. “Are you hurt?” That was spoken as if to a child, the words carefully and slowly spoken.

“I am well.” She started to say more but caught sight of his left arm. It was made of metal from shoulder to fingertip and she blinked. “Are you well?”

“As well as I get.” He had seen her looking and he averted his eyes from hers. Rising, he offered her a hand – his metal one. For all that he saw it as a symbol of his guilt, he seemed to rely on it. When he drew her to her feet with more ease than most mortals displayed, she understood. It was the source of his pain and strength. “Didn’t you see the grenade?”

“What… the round thing?” Verun looked about for her spear and found the knife wedged within the wheel of a war machine.

He took another look at her. “You’re like Thor and Loki. Asgardian.”

Verun smiled wryly as she grasped the hilt and pulled the blade. “No, I am not Asgardian. I was raised in Vanaheim.” She glanced at him; he was allied with Thor’s companions. “Perhaps I can tell you more after the fight?”

His smile came hesitantly, as if he wasn’t used to that expression. “It’s a date. I mean, sure, that sounds good.”

Verun twisted the hilt of her knife, extending the shaft again. “Good, for I have to speak to Prince Thor now. But I would like to talk more to you.”

“Me, too.” He still had a smile that was both unsure and eager. Verun took a quick step and leapt on top of the nearest war machine’s body. “Wait!” he called. “What’s your name?”

“Verun Aldisdottir.” That she gave her full name to him was a touch surprising to her, and she mentally resolved to explore that further when the battle was concluded.

“Bucky Barnes!” He raised a hand and added, “Watch out for those grenades.”

“What if I enjoy being saved from them?” she added with a coy smile, grinning as the uncertainty faded from his face. She didn’t need his answer to know that he’d enjoyed saving her from them as well and she turned to find Thor. The sooner this was resolved, the sooner things could proceed.

Bucky watched the strange woman go, deeply conflicted. She was the first woman he’d met who hadn’t recoiled from his arm. She’d been concerned but not afraid.

“It’s so sweet you can meet someone in the middle of a fight.” Natasha had come up behind him, startling the one-armed assassin. “In my experience, Asgardians have a fifty-fifty of being sane.”

“She’s not Asgardian. She’s… Vanaheimian.” Bucky glanced at Natasha just as a HYDRA soldier rose from behind a barricade, his gun pointed at the red-haired woman. Bucky quickly squeezed off a shot that took the soldier down.

Natasha, unfazed by Bucky shooting past her or the sound of an unseen combatant going down, smirked at him. “Still a good chance she’s crazy. You know, if you’re that lonely, I know some blind girls who are really sweet. Just keep them away from that arm and you’ll do just fine.”

Verun moved toward the sound of thunder and the flashes of lightning. The Thunderer was dismantling another war machine to get the men out of it. Verun started to call to him but the lid of the tank opened before her. She held her spear ready as a man stuck his head out, a mortal pistol at the ready. She spun and knocked the gun out of his hand, as always a little surprised at how weak mortals were. He ducked into the war machine, only to have Verun stab downward before he got the hatch closed. She felt the spear bite deep and heard the mortal’s scream. Withdrawing the spear, she allowed him to close himself within his metal cocoon.

Noticing the slits on the war machine, and the diameter of his pistol’s barrel, Verun scooped up the gun and knelt over a slit. Pressing the barrel to the opening, she pulled the trigger several times, listening to the screams and shouts of the soldiers inside. Even more satisfying was when the screams stopped.

Thor was not far from her now, and Verun cupped her hands around her mouth. “Thunderer! I hail from Odin!”

He turned and looked at her, his blue eyes going wide with surprise. He took in her typically-Vanir clothing and the rune-infused spear in her hand, favored by the casters of Vanaheim. “Vanir!” he called. “What message have thee?”

“I am Verun, and I have been sent in aid of Loki!” That was enough for now; Thor had been told of the sceptre’s influence on Loki. If Verun was here to help Loki, that aid involved getting him to a better space, emotionally and mentally.

“Well met!” Thor needed no introductions. “Fight with Iron Man and I!”

“No, I will move to Loki’s side, protect him.” Verun pointed across the field of battle, where Loki fought both the soldiers and the flag-garbed man in turn. “Call your allies off Loki!”

“Not happening, Cruella.” The man in red and gold armor hovered close. “Reindeer Games doesn’t get a pass from me.”

“Fight off the many-armed skull, and then we will debate Loki’s fate. For now, let me do as charged by Odin, and I will fight on your side.” Inside, Verun was annoyed. She touched the man’s mind briefly, finding it full of sharp edges and fear coated by arrogance.

“Tony, please do not kill my brother.” Thor’s voice was soft.

“Fine. I’m not sure I can anyway.” The armored man turned from them. “You other-realms people are harder to kill than New York roaches.”

Thor looked at her and gave her a nod; Verun spun and leapt to the next tank, fighting her way to Loki.

Zoe watched the battle progress from the shadows of her corner, doing her best not to pass out or vomit as blood spattered the room and more bodies fell to the floor. She pressed herself against the wall, but the blue glow of the sceptre attracted attention anyways. One of the HYDRA security lieutenants spotted her as he rushed into the room. His orders in a siege situation were clear: secure HYDRA’s two most valuable assets in the base, namely both the staff and the freak of a woman. All other personnel and experiments were ultimately expendable, which meant his own chances of surviving the onslaught would be significantly increased by following protocol.

Zoe saw the man rush her and froze. Loki was still fighting. Verun had run off to help him. She was alone and he was going to kill her. He grabbed her arm and she let out a shriek; she hadn’t even registered that he’d made it over to her until she felt his touch. She jerked back, her head pounding, and screamed, “Get away from me!”


	7. Frenemies

Power exploded from Zoe, flinging the hapless man across the room and slamming him into the stone wall. The effect spread outwards like the shock wave of a bomb; for all that it lacked heat and  fire, it still managed to clear the room of nearly every standing person. Most were knocked unconscious, a few fell like limp rag dolls and ceased to move at all. The three aliens and Stark, safely ensconced in his metal suit, manage to keep their feet without difficulty and Captain America managed to only stumble and blink in the aftermath.  Bucky was similarly staggered but kept his feet.  Natasha and Emma were both flung back, but the Black Widow regained her wits and her feet nearly instantly and Emma was only a few seconds behind her. At Zoe’s side, the Chitauri Sceptre clattered loudly to the floor in the sudden quiet

“Whoa.  You have quite a kick there.”  Iron Man hovered closer to the shaken woman.

It was Loki who moved next, moving to her side and barely giving the glowing device a glance.  “Are you well?” he asked carefully.

In his suit, Stark rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, just a protip - he doesn’t care about you, lady.  He’s got a hard-on for that sceptre.”  

Zoe’s head swiveled between the two men and she blinked stupidly for a moment. “Um, yeah - yes. I’m...I’m okay. I think. My head hurts. Are the bad guys down now? Can we _leave_?” The last was directed at Loki, though she kept peeking over at the recovering Avengers.

“No one’s leaving with Loki or the sceptre.  We’re here to finish clearing out this base.”  Iron Man was steadily breaking down the chance of a resolution that didn’t involve another fight, and Steve hurriedly stepped forward.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” he asked Zoe, offering her a hand.

“Zoe...Satelle,” she managed not to end up with the Dan Dan Fielding episode again.

“Hi, Zoe.  I’m Steve-”

“I know.”  She managed to sound both relieved and frightened.  “It’s been a weird day.”

“I guess it has.  Why are you here?”  He dropped his hand, noting that she seemed to be hiding behind Loki.  His blue eyes were filled with concern - and all of it was focused squarely on her at the moment.

“I was kidnapped. And,” she hesitated and gave a little shrug, swallowing, “other stuff. I’d _really_ like to get out of here. Before the crazy masses wake up and start shooting at us again.” She added after a heartbeat of silence while Loki and the Avengers stared at each other, “Please.”

“Zoe, we’re going to have to finish clearing out the base.”  Natasha actually sounded sympathetic; Steve had been rubbing off on her in ways. There was a world of horror and darkness in Zoe’s ‘other stuff’ hint and even Natasha wasn’t so dispassionate she could ignore that.

“I’m taking her out.”  Loki narrowed his eyes at the Avengers and their companions, clearly preparing to fight each and every one of them if he had to do so.

“No, you’re not, Reindeer Games.”  Stark’s refusal came quickly.

“Brother, please.”  Thor took a step closer to Loki; Zoe saw her bizarre self-appointed guardian grow more tense at his approach.  “We want to help you.”

“We?  The Avengers who sent me to my death at my father’s hand?”  Loki spat the words in anger.  “I’m alive only because of the love of my mother and I was denied her funeral while your human strumpet was allowed to attend.”

“You went back to Asgardian justi-” Stark started to interject again.

“Enough!”  Verun snapped the word, irritation on her face.  “Or shall Zoe knock you all down again?”

Iron Man changed the focus of his ire smoothly.  “Yeah, Princess Cruella, I didn’t exactly go down-”

The roar of the cannon shattered the argument effectively - and nearly shattered the god of thunder.  The blue blast caught him in the back and threw him to the ground.  Iron Man spun and answered with a blast of white light that killed the gunner, but they could see others stirring.

Verun knelt next to her employer’s son, fear making her throat tight.  Odin would be wroth with her if Thor died while she was there.  To her relief, the big man stirred and pushed himself to his hands and knees, despite the burn on his back.  “Loki comes with us.  For safety,” he ground out.  “As does Lady Zoe and the sceptre.”

“Spread out." Steve motioned to match his words. " Make sure we don’t have anyone else popping up to shoot us in the back.  Thor, you stay here and watch Loki. Natasha, take the sceptre."

The Black Widow leaned forward to pick up the glowing device but froze when both Zoe and Loki shouted, "Don't touch it!"

The Avengers stared at the villain and the civilian; Zoe gulped under the scrutiny and added, "It'll mess with your head. Not as bad as when it's used on you, but still. Evil fucking staff of mind fuckery. Trust me."

"Emma, please grab the sceptre.”  Steve’s words and glare around the room left no room for argument.  Perhaps Loki would have argued but he was enjoying the sight of his brother moving with painful slowness.  The group spread out and finished clearing the room, while Emma used her magnetokinesis to pick up the sceptre and Thor watched his brother and his new mortal ‘friend’.

Once the room had been rendered safe, the oddly mixed group of heroes and villain moved on through carved stone halls.  Zoe and Loki were put near the middle, surrounded by Thor and Iron Man in front of them and Captain America, Emma, and Black Widow behind.  Bucky and Verun trailed at the rear, their oddity forgotten in the face of the Invader of New York.

“Zoe, how long have you been here?”  The redhead behind Zoe spoke up softly, her eyes still on their surroundings.

“I don’t really know,” she said quietly and glanced behind at the woman speaking to her. “A while. What’s the date?”

The Black Widow and Steve exchanged a worried glance, silently coming to an agreement.  “We’ll deal with that when we get out of here,” the Black Widow assured her with something like sympathy in her voice.

Loki answered with sharp look at Natasha.  “The twelfth day of March in two thousand and sixteen years.”  

Zoe stumbled, the world spinning for a moment. “2016?” Her chest felt tight and she gulped for air, trying to keep her balance.

Natasha stepped to her side and put a hand on her shoulder.  “Just breathe, Zoe.  Deep and easy.”

“Now’s not the time to tell her, Loki.”  Steve’s expression and voice were hard as he glared at the godling.  “She doesn’t need to be thinking about that in the middle of this mission.”

“I would not keep the truth from her.”  Loki’s voice was haughty.  “Coddle her if you like, but I believe she is stronger than that.”

“There’s strong and there’s cruel.”  Black Widow kept a hand on Zoe.  “You were cruel to tell her now.”

Zoe rested her head on the cool stones of the walls, which helped the world slow down and settle back into place. She gulped one last time and shook her head. “No, I’d rather know. I’ve spent _two years_ not being told anything, just taken and thrown in a cell and….”

She shuddered, took another deep breath, and pushed off the wall. “Sorry, I’m better now.” She nodded to Loki, “Thank you, for telling me.”

“We would have told you,” Natasha said, clearly annoyed, “but we would have done so at a better time than right now.”

That killed the conversation for a moment, until Thor sidled up to Loki.  “Brother, you haven’t introduced me to your new friend.”  The bigger man smiled fondly at his sibling.

“No,” Loki answered coolly.  “I haven’t.”

Thor moved around Loki to Zoe’s side, noting the way the slight woman stuck close to the god of lies.  Even if Loki wasn’t actually fond of her, it was clear she was somewhat attached to him.   “I am Thor, Loki’s brother.”  He offered his hand to shake in the Midgardian custom.

She hesitated, still rather overwhelmed by everything that had gone on in the day so far, but after a half-moment she took his hand. “I’m Zoe...uh, I don’t have any siblings. I’m an orphan.” She blinked at herself and flushed, taking her hand back quickly. “...and babbling like an idiot. Sorry.”

“Nay, I have heard more idiotic.”  Thor clearly meant it to be a compliment or reassurance.

She tilted her head quizzically at the very large blond man and shot her original rescuer a questioning glance. “Um, thanks?”

“You are welcome.”  His grin could have been teasing or just normal for him.

“Ignore him.”  Loki leaned down enough to murmur conspiratorially to her.  “It’s what I do.”

Thor gave his brother a look that was both hurt and resigned.  “My brother speaks cruelly, but I wish to know more about you, Lady Zoe.”  He managed a teasing smile at Loki.  “My brother seems fond of you.”

“Yeah, that’s got me curious, too.”  Iron Man glanced back at them from the corner he’d checked.  “What’s up with that, Reindeer Games? You’re being unusually non-psychotic.”

“Why, Stark, you defame me.”  Loki pressed a protesting hand to his chest.  “The girl has touched my heart.  I could do no less than to help her.”

“Oh, my god…”  Black Widow’s disbelieving mutter seemed to express everyone’s feelings on the matter - everyone but Thor, Bucky, and Verun.  Thor looked pleased at the comment, finding its sarcasm more typical of the Loki of their youth.  Bucky didn’t have the perspective to understand what was happening.  The Vanir woman seemed made of ice, keeping her expression blank and her counsel private.

Zoe, on the other hand, stopped walking forward and turned an amusing shade of pink. “It was an accident...sort of,” she stammered, slowing turning from pink to a near cherry red. “I-I didn’t _mean_ to, I was still fighting off the staff and then Dr. Sadistic was dead and….” She finally trailed off, mumbling, “I really _am_ sorry about it. At least I got it started again, right?”

Loki grinned at her babbling but Thor grew very serious.  “You can stop hearts?  I have not heard of a spell like this before, save for the darkest of magics.”

“Magic?” She ran a hand through her hair and shrugged. “They just said I was telekinetic and then…” She swallowed and shook her head. “No spells or magic wands or Hogwarts, sorry. Dark, yeah, but anyone that thinks torture is a good way to pass the afternoon-”

Her eyes tracked over the Chitauri Scepter floating next to Emma. “Well, I guess that thing might count. Did I seriously get kidnapped by Death Eater wanna-bes?” She tried to make the question sound light, silly, but the blue glowing stone set in the staff still made her skin crawl whenever she looked at it.

Natasha and Emma chuckled, while Stark gave her another look.  “Telekinesis?” he asked.  “Mind if I take you back to my lab and poke you a few times?”

She gave the Iron Man a flat look, her tone dripping with a surprising amount of venom. “Yes, I do mind. Two years as a _captive lab rat_ is quite long enough.”

He popped open his face shield so she could see his semi-lecherous smirk.  “My lab is far nicer, with imported cheese.  You could also get an unlimited spending account.”  He jabbed a thumb at Emma, who had raised an eyebrow at his last comment.  “She doesn’t even get that, and I put her through astronaut school.”

Emma rolled her eyes.  “You and I remember my training very differently.  Also, stop flirting with her - she’s been through enough trauma.”  

“I thought I’d save her from Loki-wooing.”  Stark shrugged, ignoring Zoe’s sudden blush at his words.  “I’m preventing her from being presented with the President’s head as a wedding gift or something awful like that.”

“You know _nothing_ of Asgardian courting rituals.”  Loki sneered at the man in the iron suit.  “Beheadings are saved for divorces, at least in the royal family.”

“No, they are _not_ ,” Thor quickly said, no doubt fearing that getting back to Jane.

“So they do beheadings just… any old time?” Emma quipped, eliciting a choked laugh from Stark and an amused glance from Loki.

“That’s not what I meant!” Thor protested, looking flustered.

After a moment of amused silence, Zoe offered the god of thunder a bit of respite with, “ _Right_. Okay….maybe we should focus on looking out for bad guys with guns, yes?”

“I don’t know why you’d worry about that,” Iron Man said, flicking his faceguard back into place.  “After all, it’s not like we’re wandering through a dangerous HYDRA base or anything.”

 


	8. Vanahimian

They had reached the end of long corridor that offered several different options.  Stark motioned for them to hang back for a moment, then he and Thor proceeded forward in order to make sure the area was clear.  

Bucky had been watching and listening silently, letting the conversation slide over him.  More than once, he glanced at the woman beside him; he had been silent, trying to keep his mind on their surroundings instead of the woman at his side.  Without talking, they had drifted through the group to walk together.  “What do you know about Loki?”  Bucky asked Verun in a quiet voice.

“He is an adopted prince of Asgard, and was King twice, briefly, through treachery.  Now, his father seeks to heal him of the damage done to his mind by the Chitauri staff.”  Verun glanced at him briefly.  “If you’re asking if its safe to have him around, then the answer remains no.  He has an agenda and will sacrifice to follow it.”

“So it is his adopted father who wants him back?” Bucky asked softly.  He was aware of Natasha just in front of them, turning her head slightly so she could hear them.  

“Yes, Odin believes that Loki’s actions in New York were influenced by the staff.”  Verun’s green eyes were hard as she glanced forward where Loki traveled just behind Stark and Thor.  “His actions before… they were motivated by his childish desire for acceptance.”

Her words struck a little close to home.  “Being accepted isn’t childish.”  Bucky touched his left arm without thought, his fingers brushing over the cold metal.  “It’s something that everyone craves.  When you don’t have it, you can’t understand what it means.”

“You are not accepted?”  She had dropped her voice despite her direct question.  

Bucky blinked, unused to having such blunt questions pointed at him.  Most people avoided asking him about his ‘peculiarity’ or anything related to it.  He was also aware of Steve’s wife listening just in front of them.  “Not really.  I’ve done some terrible things.”

“Why?”

Bucky wasn’t expecting that question.  “Huh?”

“Why did you do them?”  Verun’s gaze wasn’t full of morbid curiosity or the usual desire to know _what_ terrible things.

“I had been brainwashed.”  Bucky saw her confused expression and quickly added, “I’d been made to forget who I was and to think I was someone else.”

“Who did you think you were?” she asked, her pretty green eyes placid.  

He should have expected that. Casting a nervous look forward, he said, “HYDRA brainwashed me into being a warrior for their cause.”  He took a deep breath and prepared for her rejection.  “I killed a lot of good people at their orders.”

“Good people always die in a war.”  Verun’s tone held no judgement.  “Warriors must kill or be killed.”

“But I did it for them.  I wasn’t strong enough-”  He broke off, unable to confess something that private in such a public forum.

“Is washing a brain like the Chitauri staff?”  Verun asked him but got an answer from Steve.

“Yes.  They are basically the same.”  He looked back at his friend, forgiveness in his expression.

Bucky couldn’t meet his eyes.  They darted toward his companion to find her watching him.  Her lack of judgment should have made him feel better; instead, he scowled at her.  “Why are you taking this so well?”

“Should I not?”  Annoyingly, she didn’t recoil from his anger, either.

He shook his head, his long hair sweeping over his collar.  “No!  No one should.”  

“You speak of your will being ripped away, then you demand that I judge you for it.”  She laid her hand on his arm and stopped him.  “This is the pain of your violation speaking, not your wisdom.”  She pressed her other hand to his chest.  “You know that your heart was not your own at that time.  You were ill-used, Bucky Barnes.   _That_ is what you must overcome.”

“It doesn’t absolve me of the evil I did,” he told her.  Ahead of them, the group waited for Thor and Tony’s signal, though Steve’s focus was at least half on the conversation.  He kept glancing back at Bucky like he wanted to rush back and argue against him.  Natasha held his arm lightly to keep him there.

“Of course not.”  Verun tilted her head at him.  Her hands were cool on his chest and arm as she said, “Nothing will unmake those deeds, but they are not _your_ deeds.  It makes the good you _choose_ to do all the more vital.”

“Coast is clear.  Are we going to stand here having a psych session, or do some Nazi-kicking?”  Stark’s digitized voice interrupted the moment as he and the god of thunder rejoined the group.  

Captain America glared at Iron Man but Bucky nodded.  “We should move on.”  He took Verun’s hands in his own and gently removed them.  “Thank you, for your nice words,” he told her.  “You’re a unique woman, you know?”

“Am I?”  Verun smiled.  “You should come to Vanaheim.  There are many like me.”  Turning, she rejoined the others, leaving Bucky to watch her walk away.

Somehow, he didn’t think she right about that.  He doubted he’d find another Vanaheimian like her, on Vanaheim or elsewhere.

* * *

“I don’t like how empty this place is.” Steve’s comment had been stated softly but it carried to everyone in the group.

“I was just thinking that,” Natasha replied. The concurrence of the two seasoned S.H.I.E.L.D. agents aroused tensions in everyone, with most people looking more nervous than they had.

“I don’t sense any minds near us.” Verun’s comment cut through the discomfort, coming as it did without any anxiety.

“Wait, you can sense minds?” Thor turned to the Vanir woman, a frown flickering across his features.

Loki’s lips curled into a dubious sneer. “I’d hardly put my faith in Vanir mind magic.”

“You can read minds?” Stark flipped open his face shield again, giving her an appraising look. “What am I thinking right now?”

Emma opened her mouth, as if to say something, but it was too late. Verun tilted her head. “For shame. She’s married. And armed.”

“I tried to warn you,” Emma joked, somewhat apologetically as Steve glowered.

Stark spread his hands wide. “This trip is full of women I want to poke. In my lab. This was a wonderful idea, Bucky!”

Verun gave a small shrug. “His thoughts are no more vile than most men’s.”

“I have to up my vile then, don’t I?” Stark asked, somewhere between disappointed and annoyed.

“Oh please, refrain yourself,” Natasha snipped in response. “Verun, right? How far out does that work? Can you sense anyone else nearby at all?”

“I can ahead of us.” Verun pointed up the hall. “There are over a dozen mortals ahead, their thoughts full of blood and fear.”

“Sounds like my last board meeting.” Stark’s remark popped out before he stopped himself.

Steve rolled his eyes, but motioned forward. “Come on then. It’s better than wandering around aimlessly. We’ll head in that direction, but remain cautious.”

The group made their way in the direction Verun had indicated. True to her prediction, they encountered no more HYDRA soldiers in the deserted hallways. It seems they had eliminated the majority of the base’s manpower during the warehouse showdown, but as they got closer to the minds that Verun was sensing, they grew nervous. The Vanir woman informed them that they didn’t seem to be moving, and it seemed increasingly likely they were walking into a trap.

“Are you sure we should proceed, Captain Rogers?” Thor asked, which drew a briefly surprised look from Loki. The trickster god wasn’t used to his brother exercising caution, nor to the idea that the normally arrogant Asgardian hier would defer to anyone in matters of battle strategy.

“It’s not ideal, but I like the idea of letting Von Strucker go free even less,” Steve replied. “Alright, here’s the plan. Emma, Verun, and Zoe stay in the back. Pick your targets after you get a feel for how they fight. Stark, you and Thor are in first, with Natasha, Bucky, and I following and picking secondary targets. Loki, stay out of the way.”

Loki glowered at the patriotic man. “I have my own stake in this, and I fight better than you.”

“We can test that theory another time but I don’t trust you. You’ve proven that to us repeatedly. So, I repeat: fight if you want, but stay out of the way.”

“Come fight with Zoe and I. Guard the mortal.” Verun made her offer as a gesture of peace. She still needed to protect Loki and deliver him to his father.

He hesitated, matching Steve in a glare-off that lasted several more moments before the trickster god finally acquiesced. “Fine,” he replied, making his way over to Verun and Zoe.

Emma leaned over and murmured quietly to Thor. “I thought he didn’t even want to come?”

“Yes, but he’s here now,” Thor replied, acknowledging his brother’s contradictory nature with a resigned sigh.

“Questions?” When Steve’s question prompted only silence, even from the smart-assed Stark, he nodded. “Form up.”


	9. Mortals

Thor and Iron Man moved shoulder-to-shoulder as they headed up the hall. Steve took the point of an arrowhead composed of himself, Natasha, and Bucky. Verun followed without hesitation, expanding her knife into a spear again and looking ready to go Valhalla on the Nazis, despite actually being from Vanaheim. Emma followed the strange offworlder, the sceptre floating beside her in her magnetic caress. Loki and Zoe followed at a good distance, both reluctant to fight for different reasons. The hallway ended at a set of heavy metal double doors, and Tony and Thor paused briefly at them. The two exchanged a brief glance, then they each threw open one of the matching doors, and for lack of a better option strode into the room confidently.

“Well, well... Should I be honored? It isn’t every day the Avengers show up on one’s doorstep.”

The voice came from above, and it drew the attention of the group. They were in what looked like a large scientific laboratory, though the dark atmosphere and the haphazard furnishings were a stark contrast to the clean, sterile environments of Stark’s labs back in the United States. On the far right were stairs leading up to a doorway, perhaps an office. It was from up there that the German-inflected voice came, where Von Strucker stood on the top of the landing looking down at them. The other few HYDRA members were there, aiming down at the crew of heroes with the barrels of their weapons.

“Absolutely,” Stark replied with the digital inflection of the Iron Man suit. “In fact, we’d love for you to come visit. Great accommodations - three meals a day, clothing provided, exercise facilities… what more could you ask for?”

“Plenty,” the HYDRA commander replied. “From you especially, Mr. Stark. But I find it unlikely that you’d be willing to accommodate me. Of course, it never hurts to ask for what one desires. So if you hand over the girl and the staff, I will consider letting you and your Avenger friends go free this time.” His gaze flickered over Emma and Verun, before resting on Bucky. “Even the new recruits.”

“‘I’m afraid not, Von Strucker,” Steve interjected, matching gazes with the Nazi officer. “We won’t be leaving here without Zoe, the staff, and you.”

“I confess I am glad to hear you say that, Captain Rogers. I would have hated to have made all these preparations, and then have to cancel the show.”

With that, he held up a small device, about the size of a keyfob. He pressed a button on it, and down on the main floor, doors began to swing open. Creatures began to appear in the openings, strange monsters from myth and nightmare. The first thing Stark saw clearly was the saber-toothed bear, a monster of fur and fang that stood ten feet at the shoulder. A massive serpent slithered out of one door, while a monstrous amalgamation of a spider and a praying mantis exited another opening.

“Thor, bottleneck!” Steve moved the other way, his shield coming up as Thor summoned lightning. Loki flinched a little as the roar and light seared through the room, the bolt pounding into the bear-thing’s head and shoulder. It collapsed with a terrible wail and showed the monstrous mutated tiger behind it. That was only a fraction of the doors they faced.

Thor continued to try to drop a monster in the mouth of each door to slow their charge into the room. Steve engaged with a giant spider, alternating between bouncing his shield off of its head and blocking its blows. Iron Man went high, picking his shots from above. It was easy enough to hit them, but the monsters could take a lot of damage before dropping.

Natasha quickly learned her guns did little, the bullets bouncing off of the animals’ hides and carapaces. Her Widow’s Bite could temporarily render a monster unconscious but she then had to act quickly to prevent it from rising to the fight again. Her fight became a nightmare of immobilization and then frantically figuring out how to kill the creature.

Bucky wished he had more guns, a wish that he quickly realized was futile. Still, he had a few tricks up his sleeve, so to speak, things he’d learned in the last two years while figuring out who he was. A wolf bigger than a horse came at him with open jaws, and Bucky gave it his left arm. The monster bit down but couldn’t damage the metal. He punched it in the throat and it drew back but he caught it by the lower jaw. His left hand squeezed the animal’s chin mercilessly, using his superior strength to hold it close while he punched it in the vulnerable neck again. He drew back for a third blow but Verun stepped in and thrust her spear into its chest. Bucky glanced at her as she removed the weapon in a welter of blood and gave him a dazzling smile at the same time. Wow. None of the girls in Brooklyn had ever been able to do that.

Emma was having a more challenging time. Her control over metal, so useful against the HYDRA agents earlier, was significantly less so against the giant beasts. She’d managed to draw a scorpion-like creature off of Natasha, and started playing defense with it by shifting furniture in front of it, trying to block it in. Its stinger lashed forward over the simple metal exam table, and a pincer reached through the bottom, snapping angrily. She tried striking it with her batons, but the durable metal bounced ineffectively off of the creature’s thick carapace and it continued to lunge forward, pitting it’s genetically manipulated strength against Emma’s magnokinetic abilities. She could feel her control beginning to slip against the scorpion’s superior efforts.

In desperation, her eyes flickered around the room and came to rest on the metal handrail leading up to the platform where Von Strucker stood, watching the chaos. With a smirk, she ripped the railing out from the wall, causing the landing and the stairs to wrench with it. The HYDRA captain stumbled, but managed to retain his footing by grabbing onto the handle of the door leading out to the platform. Emma briefly considered twisting the railing around his stupid Nazi neck, but was distracted by the scorpion’s tail lashing forward towards her. She rolled out of the way, and then twisted the metal stair rail into a hoop. She captured the tail in the hoop, and slammed the ends of the metal rods into the concrete with enough force to pin the stinger to the floor.

“Stark! Some help over here, please?!” she called, as she continued to dodge the creature’s pincers. Tony turned towards the call, and seeing her dilemma he fired a small-caliber missile towards it. The explosion was enough to take out the vicious arachnid, and its remains collapsed onto the floor. Emma slumped briefly back against a wall and let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding, before a noise across the room drew her attention, and she pushed herself off and jumped back into the fray.

Loki smirked at the pure chaos around them. He was rather enjoying himself; this was like the battles of old, before he’d known the truth. If he went back far enough in his memory, there was a time when he hadn’t felt like Thor’s dark shadow, when fights like this were not chances to watch his brother outshine him but to feel the fullness of his power. He used his illusions freely, running monsters into each other and the walls, then slipped in to slit throats or throat-like objects when they were reeling from his tricks. In truth, these ‘monsters’ were not on par with the fiercest beasts of Asgard, and he grew almost complacent as he fought them.

Verun lingered next to Bucky. Zoe was against the wall and out of the conflict; it was safe to leave her alone. That made the decision for her and she shouted, “Can we fight as one?”

“Uh, yes?” Bucky wasn’t sure exactly what she meant but there wasn’t time to worry about it. He also didn’t want to turn her help down. As he finished speaking, there was a soft intrusion into his mind.

“I’m linking our minds. It will be one way, since you are not trained to fight like this.” Her voice carried over the clamour of combat. “Just fight as normal and I will bind to you.”

“Uh… sure.” Bucky focused on the fight, using his arm to block an attack from a bear. He shot a large eagle threatening Natasha and turned back to deal with the bear, to find that Verun had already driven it back with several strikes of her spear. Their fighting continued that way - he acted and she supported, augmenting his attacks with strikes of her own. It was the feeling of a completely seamless camaraderie. He felt like they had fought together for her, that she knew him completely. It was creepy but filled a yearning in him for companionship.

Thor wasn’t sure how the small pack of wolves had been successful but so far they’d been giving him the hardest time. They weren’t super smart or massive; strong yes, but they were merely big wolves, except for their uncanny ability to coordinate their movements. It was a seamless orchestration between the three of them. He understood why when he caught one in the head with a glancing blow. They all stopped for a moment, shaking their heads. Hive mind.

The god of thunder opened himself up, leaving a hole in his defenses that a toddler - an Aesir toddler, at least - could have seen. The wolves came in, heads down, tails stiff and he swung his hammer around with speed, hitting them all like bowling pins. The blow shattered most of the bones in the first wolf’s body, killing it instantly. The second wolf was caught in the head by its dead packmate’s shoulder and the continuing force of the hammer, giving it instant brain trauma and killing it seconds later. The momentum of Thor’s swing had been sapped by the time it hit the third wolf, cracking ribs and sending it flying.

The three furred forms tumbled through the air, two limply and one struggling. As the one on the end, the living one flew the farthest, over Bucky and Verun’s head as they fought back-to-back, over Natasha strangling a scorpion with a man’s head, and over Loki, who watched its arc. When the wolf twisted and landed on its feet near Zoe, the godling bit back an angry curse. Trust my brother to put the mortal at risk before she teaches me her secrets.

Black hair flaring behind his shoulders, Loki took off at a run. She could defend herself but right now she didn’t look like she could. She was backpedaling from the wolf, who turned on her. Loki recognized the stance of a creature driven mindless with pain and he pressed himself to move faster, vaulting over an armored horse with fangs. The beast leapt as Loki arrived and he had to throw himself on it, actually physically engaging with the creature.

Kicking it off, he got himself and Zoe behind an illusion. When the wolf picked itself up, it saw them - four feet to the left of where they really were. It charged them and slammed into a steel wall. It crumpled to the ground, and Loki stepped in close, opening its throat with his sharp blade. Irritated, he turned to Zoe. “Why didn’t you stop its heart?” he asked sharply.

“What? I,” Zoe stuttered, the sounds of the battle badgering at her overloaded senses. “I didn’t think of it,” she ended lamely, feeling ashamed that she was useless when everyone else was helping each other in the fight.

“Mortals,” Loki muttered, rolling his eyes, “so-” Whatever his comment on mortals, it was interrupted by the giant snake dropping on him from above. The monster had gotten into the rafters and waited patiently for an isolated prey to show itself. When Loki stopped to berate Zoe, the snake saw an opportunity.

Zoe shrieked as Loki disappeared under coils of glistening snake skin. The snake moved with terrifying speed and Loki’s knife was like a toothpick to the creature. He didn’t get much of a chance to use it before the creature locked him up in a tight ball, its muscular body winding around him and squeezing.

She screamed again as Loki arched his back like a bow, struggling to breathe against the constriction. The monster looped around him again as Zoe finally cried, “Loki!”

Captain America was close enough to hear. He spun to see the snake loop around the godling again; he was close enough to see the pain on Loki’s face. It wasn’t a question to the guy who always did the right thing; the Captain whipped his shield around in an arc that bounced off the snake’s head.

The monster hissed at him; Steve ignored it as he caught the shield on the rebound and lined up another throw. This time he followed it, dashing forward to help extract Loki. He climbed in quick jumps up the coils, catching his shield as he stopped near Loki’s head. “Hang on,” he instructed tersely, “I’m going to get you out."

Loki considering telling him he’d rather die than be rescued by the flag-themed hero, but he did actually want to live. Dying would give his father too much satisfaction to allow it to happen. Instead he nodded, his eyes drifting to the left to find the leader of their enemies pointing a gun at him. Captain America was safely on the other side of the snake but Loki was right in the line of fire. “Strucker,” he rasped, using some of his precious air to notify his would-be rescuer.

Captain America twisted and saw Von Strucker pointing a HYDRA weapon at him. No, he realized: at Loki. Targeting an unarmed man wasn’t something that sat well with Steve. Gripping the snake tightly, he swung around and put his shield up between Loki and the gun, just as Strucker fired.

 


	10. Hel

The thick orange beam lanced out through the air and impacted the First Avenger. Bucky was looking in the right direction to see the beam hit the shield with no apparent effect - though there was a flash of orange behind the shield. Then Steve crumpled, falling off the snake bonelessly. Bucky froze at the terrible sight; Verun felt the spike of terror through their link and twisted to see him hit the ground. “Steve?” Bucky called, and when his friend didn’t move, Bucky screamed, “Steve!”

Natasha turned, her green eyes widening when she saw her husband unmoving on the ground. The blue and white on his chest started to turn red ring as blood seeped through the uniform. She didn’t cry out like Bucky but she did dart to Steve’s side, feeling at his throat.

Verun and Bucky were there as well in the next few seconds. “He’s not breathing.” The Black Widow’s voice was made of ice. “There’s no pulse. Breathe for him while I do compressions.”

Verun watched as Bucky leaned over, tipping back Steve’s head and clearing his mouth. Natasha placed her clasped hands over his chest. “One,” she chanted but her first thrust down went too far into his chest and she pulled back, horror and panic on her face.

“What are you waiting for!” Bucky shouted, his eyes wild. Verun slipped around him and cradled Steve’s head, opening her mind to his. Immediately, she knew he was dying: his mind was the fragmented chaos of death. The body had stopped and his consciousness, the part that made him unique, was slipping away. Flashes of his life passed through their minds.

The last piece of his mind, the part that he held onto until the end, was his wife, his child, and Bucky. The feelings of love for all three drew tears to her eyes: this was his family and the most important thing in the world to him.

Then Verun realized she was at the end. Blackness loomed before her, threatening to engulf her mind. With great effort, she drew herself back. She didn’t know why the dying mind could draw another down with it but it was a danger and she had foolishly lasted too long. Gasping, she opened her eyes and tipped her head back just as Thor slammed his hammer into the snake’s head, killing it and freeing his brother. He stared at Captain America’s body in horror.

“Steve…” Bucky’s voice broke through her disorientation, huddled over the Captain with his forehead pressed to his best friend’s. Natasha sat ramrod straight, her eyes staring at nothing. Over their heads, Iron Man hovered, unmoving as he viewed the tableau. His silence was the worst of all.

Von Strucker’s laugh rang out over the observers. “One down, seven to go. Then I’ll have my sceptre and my experiment back.” He lifted the vile weapon again, this time aiming it Stark.

Emma had seen the way the beam had passed through the Captain's impenetrable shield, and realized Tony's normally resilient armor would offer him no protection. She saw Strucker's finger begin to tighten on the trigger and let out a cry of alarm. "No!"

Her hand stretched out towards him, and Von Strucker felt the metal weapon ripped from his hand, his trigger finger snapping painfully from the unexpected force. He let out a yell of pain, grabbing his broken hand as the metal-crafted weapon went sailing across the room and into the newest Avenger's outstretched palm.

Zoe had seen Von Strucker pick out his next target at the same time Emma had, his taunts ringing in her ears. _He’ll put me back in that cage._ Her mind twisted and panicked and she reached out with her own powers just as Emma did. The difference was months of training and mental stability: where Emma sought to disarm and capture, Zoe was a frightened animal lashing out to survive. His heart strained against her telekinetic grip, but she had been trained too well. He gasped, clutching at his chest and turning a deep shade of purple; Zoe squeezed harder and finally the muscle gave up, nearly exploding within his body.

Von Strucker collapsed to the floor of the viewing area, his face turning a bright red, then white as the blood began to settle. His lieutenants looked at his corpse, looked at Zoe, and as one fled through the door behind them. There were a handful of monsters left; Thor, Loki, Iron Man, and Emma quickly finished the animals.

Bucky hadn’t moved, leaning over Steve’s body, weeping and heartbroken. Natasha was too still, sitting with her bloody palms in her lap. With fragile deliberateness, she reached out and took her husband’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Verun collected herself with effort and rose shakily to her feet. “Are we following the others?”

“No.” Stark’s voice sounded hollow even over his intercom. “There’s no point.” No one argued with him, though Thor and Emma looked concerned. Stark didn’t care what they thought. They’d just lost the best of the Avengers - not only the first one but the moral core of their group. Steve, for all the times that he and Tony had butted heads, had been their heart.

“Let us take Steve home.” Thor knelt next to his friend’s body, arranging it carefully and placing his shield over his chest. He left Natasha’s hand in Steve’s. He glanced at Verun and they exchanged a look of understanding. Vanir and Aesir culture was similar enough that they both knew the other’s intentions.

Verun put her hands on Bucky’s shoulders and gently drew him to his feet. At the same time, she siphoned off the worst of his grief. It wasn’t enough to stop his tears but it was enough to allow him to function. When he looked at her, her eyes were wet with tears, too. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. He didn’t respond.

Thor stripped off his red cloak and laid it carefully on the ground. He jerked his head as Loki and his brother moved to Captain America’s feet. Before he could touch the fallen hero, Iron Man caught the younger brother’s arm. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking touch him.” Tony’s voice shook with rage and grief.

Uncharacteristically, Loki didn’t shoot off a smart-ass remark. Instead, he moved aside as Tony moved to Steve’s feet. Thor picked him up by the shoulders as Tony lifted his feet, and together they shifted him to the cape. Natasha moved with them, keeping her hold on Steve’s hand. She had cried yet; she barely seemed to be touched by the tragedy. All of her friends knew better. The Black Widow, now in truth as well as name, simply wasn’t displaying her grief.

Emma stared in silence, fingers clutching the weapon that had killed him. Her throat was tight with sorrow, her mind reeling with disbelief. She had only begun to know Steve the man recently, he was a good man... and a good friend. But seeing him there I'm his uniform, lying so still... it was unthinkable. Like what it must have felt like to watch Kennedy's assassination on the grassy knoll. Or hear about the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. Steve Rogers was a legend, an American icon. And now he was gone. "I'll... I'll go ready the jet." She felt ill all of a sudden, the smell of death was everywhere and she had to escape it. She didn't know how much readying the jet would need that Jarvis wouldn't be able to perform, but it was as good of an excuse as any.

“Take the staff,” Thor reminded her gently and the woman nodded quickly. The staff rose into the air on her magnetic current and Emma made her escape to the plane. Thor took one corner of his cloak and Natasha took another. After a moment of hesitation, Bucky took the third.

Stark stared at Verun. “I want to leave them a parting gift,” he told the woman and she met the white-eyed gaze of his faceplate for a long moment before taking the fourth corner. Together, the four lifted the cloak and trailed after Emma.

Stark gestured for Loki to follow them; the godling put his hand on Zoe’s shoulder and steered her toward the exit. Numbly, the girl shook herself out of the shock and fugue she’d fallen into and moved as directed by the black-haired godling.

Iron Man was alone. Tony Stark stared at the room where they had lost Captain America. A shudder ran through him and he dropped to one knee, his faceplate snapping open. The thought that he would be easy prey right now if a soldier came back passed through his mind. He didn’t see how it mattered, not with Steve dead. Not with Banner dead. Not with Pepper dead. We’re going to die fighting this world, one by one.

The open door led to a command center. Tony hopped up onto the ledge and then walked into the room. “JARVIS, scan those controls. I’m looking for the one thing that all these HYDRA bases have.”

“Yes, Sir.” There was a moment of silence and then JARVIS reported. “There, Sir.” The AI highlighted the section of buttons on the screen. “It is password protected.”

“Of course it is.” Tony walked over and plugged into the console. “Crack it, JARVIS.” It took five minutes for the AI to chew through the encoding. Once done, Tony started checked the camera, calculated speeds of movement, and started the program. Then he flew out of the room, following his companions.

“What detained you?” Thor asked when Iron Man caught up to them.

“Just a farewell present.” Tony didn’t sound pleased; his voice was still hollow. “We should keep moving.”

“A go-boom present?” Emma asked with a grim little smile.

“Yep.” Tony had timed the ‘gift’ well; it didn’t explode until they were a mile away. There they put down Steve’s body and watched the base burn. Tony didn’t enjoy the sight; it was a pointless gesture, done mostly out of an obligation to made sure HYDRA couldn’t loot the base for valuable resources. “JARVIS, call the jet and have them come here. Tell them… tell the crew what we’ll need.”

“I should take Loki, Zoe, and the sceptre back to Asgard,” Thor replied, nodding to Tony.

“I see, you are trying to help me.” Loki’s face twisted with anger and betrayal. “Help me right back into a cell!” He stepped backwards from the group.

“Well, you did try to invade our world, Aesirllini.” Stark shifted to the side, giving himself a clear shot of the rogue godling.

Thor held out his hand. “Loki, please. Father is trying to help you. The staff has affected your mind!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Loki spat. “I figured that out long before Fa-”

A blast from Iron Man’s repulsors interrupted the godling and knocked him to the ground. Zoe let out a startled cry and lunged forward, only to be grabbed by the Black Widow. Loki was only momentarily stunned and Tony quickly hit him three more rapid bursts, driving him into unconsciousness. “What?” he said when he looked up and found the others staring at him.

“That was a bit… excessive.” Thor said as carefully as he could, worried at Tony’s unusually violent reaction.

“I’m not in the mood for his whining,” he growled. “Why are you taking Zoe?”

“You people are crazy!” Zoe cried out, struggling against the stronger woman. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

Thor gave Tony a steady look that suggested they’d be having a conversation about the treatment of Loki later but said nothing as he bent and picked his brother up. He slung the unconscious Loki over his shoulder gently. “She’s been affected by the sceptre. Father should see her as well,” Thor said evenly. “He can determine if she will have the same lasting effects.” Turning to Zoe, his expression softened. “Lady Zoe, I give you my word you will come to no harm in Asgard. You will be my guest.”

Natasha rolled her eyes behind Zoe’s back as the girl struggled. Thor was a good man, but that was the problem some of the times. Both the _good_ and the _man_. “If you don’t go,” she said quietly in Zoe’s ear, “there will be no one to look out for Loki. He’s going to Asgard no matter what you do.”

Zoe stilled at that, weighing her fear against her feeling of obligation to the green-clad alien. Natasha could feel when she made her decision and let the petite woman shrug off her hold. “Fine,” Zoe sighed, sparing a glare for Stark, “I’ll go.”

“Are we ready, then?” he asked Verun and Zoe as he motioned for them to join him. The former prisoner silently joined him but the Vanir woman hesitated.

“Just a moment.” Verun’s request didn’t surprise the prince and Thor nodded to her as she stepped over to Bucky’s side, where he watched the Captain’s body.

It was a different man than she had seen earlier today. He looked at her, tears staining his face, and she reached out and touched his mind. It was bleak, devoid of joy or happiness. Any thought she had of trying to remain in touch with him died. He was dead inside and by the time she returned to Midgard, he would be physically dead. She saw him ending himself in his mind, leaving her feeling curiously bereft.

On impulse, she stood on her tiptoes, holding his upper arms for balance, and murmured in his ear, “Wait a day.”

His sad blue eyes locked with hers as she dropped to the balls of her feet. “For what?” he asked listlessly.

She shifted her fingers against the fabric of his coat. “For what I see painted in your mind.”

Bucky looked away from her, shame filling his emotions. “Why should I wait?”

Verun looked away, struggling for an answer. It was rare that she didn’t know her own heart and finally she could only admit, “For me, because I want to know you would wait.”

His eyes closed as his expression crumpled in pain. It was unfair that he’d met her at the worst possible time in his life. Where was she seventy years ago? Her grandfather was probably being born. “I have the funeral first, anyway,” he murmured, lifting his hands to capture her elbows. Part of him railed at giving up now, when he’d found someone like her. A larger part didn’t see a point now that Steve was gone. He’d wanted to find be himself once more but without Steve, he was lost. “That will be a day. At least.”

Verun’s smile was bittersweet; she’d only delayed the choice he’d made for himself. It would make no difference in the end. “Thank you.” She squeezed his arms, noting the difference between the flesh one and the metal. “Stay well, Bucky. I will see you in Hel.”

“I’m already there, but I’ll enjoy the company.” It was lame, a ghost of the lines he managed when Steve was smaller than him. “Stay well, Verun.”

With that, Verun stepped to Thor’s side, fighting the feeling she should remain. She took a deep breath and reached out for the spectre. Zoe gasped in alarm as her fingers curled around it. The Vanir woman shuddered as it battered at her mental shields. They held and she gave a nod and a glance to the blond prince before returning her eyes to Bucky. He watched her with a hint of concern in his grieving features and she gave him a little wave to show she was fine – and to say goodbye.

Thor lifted his face to the sky and shouted, “Heimdall! Bring us to Asgard!” A bolt of light shot down from the heavens and engulfed the four, and then they were gone.

 


	11. Mouthing On

The wrenching feeling of traveling the Bifrost ended in a room made of gold and light.  Thor, with Loki carried over his shoulder, was the first to step out, followed by Verun and Zoe.  The mortal’s first glimpse of Asgard bore resemblance to the image that Zoe had been given from Verun, but seeing it in person was much more awe-inspiring.  She could tip her head back and see the high arch above them, but this was a tiny space compared to the throne room she’d seen.

“Welcome home, Thor.”  The large man with dark skin and armor of gold pulled a sword from the central dias.  He smiled and seemed slightly less foreboding as he glanced over their party.  “Verun, I see you have returned from Midgard with your task accomplished.”

“With assistance from the mortals, yes.”  The sceptre in her hand seemed to gleam ominously as she set it down hastily.  Pressing fingers to her temple, she added, “The Allfather might wish to send a device to contain that thing.  I do not think I could carry it all the way to the palace.”

Zoe frowned at the staff, still privately named the Evil Fucking Staff of Mind Fuckery instead of the Chit-whatever that everyone else kept calling it. She put a hand on the taller woman’s arm and asked quietly, “You okay?”

“Yes. The strain of keeping the Chitauri staff from tainting my thoughts was merely taxing.”  She straightened slightly.  “I need to eat and rest, that is all.”  She tilted her head, her green eyes studying the girl in front of her.  “Are you well?  The Bifrost is disorienting for mortals.”

The white-haired girl ran a nervous hand through her hair and shook her head. “After the past two years? The prospect of going anywhere, even if it’s by interdimensional portal or whatever, is worth a little bit of dizziness. And Tibet was freezing. At least it’s warm here.”

“I have sent word of your arrivals to your father, Thor.”  Heimdall took a step back, leaving the past out of his observatory clear.  “He is no doubt waiting.”

“Thank you, Heimdall.”  Thor nodded to the Asgardian warrior and motioned for Zoe and Verun to follow him.  They stepped out onto the rainbow bridge that connected the Bifrost to the rest of Asgard, watching Zoe closely.  When she stopped to stare at the eternally falling ocean and the distant, glowing city, he said, “Lady Zoe, I must warn you - my father thinks little of mortals.   He may be… harsh.”

“How do you not run out of water - huh?” Zoe blinked up at the blond god, belatedly registering his words and shrugged, “I grew up with doctors. I’m used to it.”

“I know not how bad ‘doctors’ can be,” Thor said, either forgetting about his treatment in the hospital or failing to realize that those were doctors, “but Dr. Banner was quite a good man before his death.  My father will be worse.”

“The Allfather is greatly feared across the realms.”  Verun’s matter-of-fact commentary didn’t help.

Zoe clasped her hands in front of her, running her fingers over the back of one palm; it was a nervous habit she’d acquired because it was quiet and the doctors didn’t scold her for it. She shrugged again and said quietly, “Well, there’s really nothing to do about it now, is there? Loki needs help and I guess I need to be checked over for being brainwashed or whatever.”

“Yes, but I wished you to have warning.”  Thor turned and continued to lead them along the bridge, leaving the two women to follow.

“I encourage you to ‘mouth-on’ to Odin.”  Verun spoke the words with the peculiar phrasing of someone attempting another culture’s slang.

Zoe stumble a step and flushed, giving Verun an incredulous look. “I really don’t think you do. Um...what were you trying to say? I don’t think that means what you think it does.”

“It does not?”  Verun frowned.  “I have heard mortals speak of ‘mouthing off’.  Is then ‘mouthing on’ not the opposite?  To speak to one with respect?”

“It doesn’t,” Zoe said carefully, rubbing her forehead. “It more implies...uh, putting your mouth physically on someone. Probably in a sexual manner. More of an equivalent would be… um… praise, maybe? Fawn over? Or just be respectful would also work.”

Verun nodded thoughtfully.  “I have not spent much time in Midgard, only a few short months seeking Loki.”  She cast an unreadable look at the unconscious man.  “I have much to learn.”

“They do grow on you, do they not?” Thor asked with a jovial smile.  

Verun merely raised an eyebrow, otherwise declining to comment.  “Zoe, you will need to know a few things to help you just be respectful with Odin.  Do your people bow or kneel to your king?”

“We don’t have a king. Just politicians.” She thought for a moment, then added, “We usually shake hands, but somehow I get the feeling that King Odin isn’t the ‘shake hands with the mortal’ type, though.”

“No, he will expect you to kneel in respect.”  Her eyes were troubled.  “Do not speak until he addresses you.  If your clothing causes contention, you of course should mention your circumstances.  What do you know of Asgardian culture?”

“That they like to build big, pretty things?” She offered, gesturing the city looming in front of them. “And still have the whole feudal thing going for some reason. That’s about everything. Oh, and they have a teleporter.”

“They are a warrior culture.  They are technologically advanced compared to Midgard, though you understand that now.”  Verun paused a second before continuing.  “Odin is the King of Asgard, though you may call him the Allfather as well.  He is the supreme ruler of Asgard, which is the strongest of the Nine Realms.  Thor is his son and heir, and Loki is his adopted son.”

“I am no longer my father’s heir.”  Thor spoke up softly, his tone full of a mixture of complex emotions.  “I have been granted release from my familial obligations.”

Verun narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t say anything.  “Then who is his heir?”  She glanced at Zoe before summarizing, “Loki is also a criminal who took the throne under false pretenses and other crimes, including an act of treachery where he killed Laufey, King of the Jotuns.  This does not take into account the acts committed on Midgard.”

“My father has no heir.”  Thor spoke evenly but both women heard a hint of guilt in his voice.

“Just as the Ice Throne remains empty.”  Verun’s lips tightened into a thin line.  “Laufey’s surviving son cannot take the throne.”

“Why?” Zoe asked, only half following the conversation but too curious not to speak up when the two lapsed into silence.

“Because Loki is his true-born son.”  Verun’s words were cool and hard, as if the Vanir woman disapproved of the situation.  “He tricked Laufey into the Asgard palace, promising to allow Laufey the chance to kill Odin. Then Loki killed Laufey himself, with full knowledge that he slay his father in a vain attempt to impress his un… his adopted father.”  There had been heat in her words; whatever she’d almost said had no doubt been unflattering to the Allfather, and Thor gave her a piercing look.  “Regardless, there are no acknowledged children of Laufey’s line left, and none have grasped the power of the throne, yet.”

 _Most fucked up Disney movie **ever**._ Zoe tried not to let her mouth hang open in shock nor to say something comparing Asgard to an episode of the Borgias. One would make her look like an idiot and the other might get her put in the stockades or whatever happened when you insulted the royalty in the Middle Ages. _How can they be so technologically advanced and so culturally backwards? That’s just weird._ “Huh. Um. Okay. That’s...kinda messed up.”

Verun tilted her head and considered Zoe’s words and then nodded.  “It is indeed messed up.”  Her composure had returned to her and now she untied the heavy fur cloak she’d worn in Tibet.  Underneath she wore a simple dress in pale green, demurely cut with the typical scarf-like collar favored by Vanir women.  She removed her backpack and paused a moment.  “I have another dress.  Would you like to change before we enter the throne room?”

The mortal hesitated and asked, “Could I see it first? Would I have somewhere to change?”

Thor looked baffled but nodded.  “Yes, we can find a room for changing, if you don’t tarry.”

She gave them both a shy smile and bobbed her head. “Thanks, that would be wonderful.”

It took another half hour or so to walk to the palace; Zoe privately wondered why there wasn’t a tram or something between the teleporter and the palace, but she had too much to stare at to wonder for long. She stuck close to her two guides and unconscious rescuer tried to ignore the curious (or even hostile) looks the small group garnered on their way to the immensely large Royal Palace. Once inside, a sitting room was quickly converted into her private changing room.

Verun followed her inside while Thor lingered outside, shifting the unconscious Loki to another shoulder.  “Here,” she offered, extending the dress.  “The wrinkles should fall out if you shake it vigorously.”  She gave Zoe’s simple pants and shirt a once-over and offered kindly, “Do you need help with the dress?”

Zoe shook her head quickly. “Uh, no. I’m used to dresses, for concerts and all. I’ll-I’ll be fine.” She gingerly took the dress from Verun’s hand and waited a beat, hoping the Vanir woman would take the hint and step outside without having to be directly asked.

Verun gave her that inquisitive head-tilt, the one that seemed to proceed all her questions.  “Are you sure?  Midgardians seem to favor simple clothing styles.”  

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be fine. The mortal can figure out the dress, I promise.” She tried to make it sound like a joke, but the words were just a touch too breathless. “I just need a minute and I’ll be back out.”

Verun studied her for a long moment, debating reaching into the mortal’s mind and see what drove this frightened insistence.  In the end, Verun decided to leave well enough alone.  “Very well.  If you do need the assistance, I am right outside.  Please do not delay too long.”  She matched word to deed, backing out of the room and firmly shutting the door behind her.

Zoe shook out the dress, inspected it carefully, and then stripped out of her prisoner clothes as quickly as possible. The dress was less complicated than half the stuff she wore to work, but it did take a few minutes to check that the neckline was high enough and find all of the places that it laced up. She still didn’t have shoes, but Verun was several inches taller than her, so the hemline trailed on the floor and covered her bare feet. Just being in something clean was nearly heaven, though Zoe felt bad for soiling it with her grubby self at the moment. She quickly wove her hair into a braid, the best she could do with it without a shower and some conditioner.

“Try not to stink too much around the king,” she muttered to herself as if it would help. She patted out the last of the wrinkles, gathered just enough of the skirt in one hand to keep herself from tripping on the dress, and made her way back out.

The Vanir waited with Thor, watching Loki lie limply across his back.  I shouldn’t have spoken of Laufey’s death.  Just mentioning it had brought up anger and pain in her heart, which would make it more difficult to retain her composure.   Still, she’d felt the need for Zoe to know the man she’d looked to as her savior.  Verun wanted to tell herself that she was protecting the mortal from the inevitable betrayal but she knew her own heart: if Loki wanted something, she wanted to deny him.

The door to Zoe’s room opened and disrupted her thoughts.  Verun smiled at the young woman when she emerged.  “You look much more presentable.  Here, let me put your old clothing in my bag.”

“They’re dirty…” Zoe said softly.

“And my cloak bloodied.  All will be cleaned at the end, and the bag has seen it’s share of soiling, too.”  Verun stuffed the rags that had covered the mortal into her backpack and replaced it on her back.  With a nod to Thor, they continued to the audience with the Allfather.


	12. Very Even Halves

The halls became larger and grander the deeper they went into the Palace, while the amount of golden furnishings went from staggering to insane.  Zoe could have paid off all of her school loans with the finery in one foot of hallway, with money left over for at least a house and car in New York City.  The hall they were in emptied into a massive room, and this was familiar to the mortal: it was the throne room she’d seen in Verun’s mind.  Seated in the massive chair at the far end of the room was an old man, as opulently clothed as his hallways.  Even his eyepatch was gold.   _I thought Americans had first world problems,_ Zoe thought as she stared.

Her musings were interrupted as Thor lowered Loki from his shoulder and laid him gently on the ground, followed by both he and Verun kneeling before the dias.  Hastily, she followed suit, wincing when the cold (gold!) floor came into contact with her bare knee.

“My sons have returned.  Thor, rise.”  Odin rose and offered his arms to his eldest son, who met him on the step below the dias for a manly, back-thumping hug.  From the fleshy sounds of Odin pounding on Thor’s back, Zoe was sure this geriatric king could break her into two very even pieces.

As her brain tried to decide if that was even _lengthwise_ or by _weight_ , and why that was even important, Odin turned his attention to her - and then looked past her to Verun.  “Verun, I see you have brought all to me.”  He waved toward a golden box to the side.  “The sceptre within, my son without.  You have done well.”

Verun bowed over her knee.  “Thank you, Allfather.”

“Your reward will come soon but for now, I bid you to remain.”  Odin spoke kindly enough but Zoe saw Verun tense slightly.  

The Vanir had wanted to be paid and be done with this task.  She had to decide whether to return to Midgard or forget the metal-armed man.  She did what she could in response to Odin’s command: she bowed her head in acquiescence and said, ““Yes, Allfather.”

Thor looked curiously at his father, wondering why he was retaining Verun longer than needed.  He was used to this father doing something others found odd, so he shrugged it off and said, “And this is Lady Zoe, a mortal.  We believed you might wish to examine her mind to help heal her.  She, like Loki, might have lingering influences from the Sceptre.”  He smiled at Zoe.  “Perhaps if she has thrown off it’s power on her own, she can help do the same for Loki.”

That single eye settled on her and Zoe would be lying if she didn’t find the gaze of the old man slightly terrifying.  “Have you handled the sceptre, mortal child?”

She shook her head, unable to look away from the fierce old man. “No, sir. It was used on me...a lot. I don’t know how many times. But Dr. Sadi- um, Dr. Ona was usually the one holding it. Sometimes the German guy. Strucker. Loki asked me to move it when he let me out of the cell, but I didn’t touch it.” The king frowned and Zoe quickly clarified, “I’m telekinetic. I moved it, but I didn’t touch it. It’s way too creepy.”

“What did you feel from it, Verun, when you handled it?”  Odin looked to her next.

 _That is why he wished me to stay._  With the mystery of Odin’s request solved for her, Verun relaxed slightly.  “I felt a power that has its own will.  I believe that I could only handle it for five minutes before subcombing.”

“You are as skilled in mental magics as my son is in illusions.”  Odin’s comment narrowed Verun’s eyes; that remark was a little too close to home.  “Do you believe I am safe from its power?”

She had a second to decide: honesty or honest flattery.  “For a time.”  Verun opted for a more direct statement.  “I have not assessed your mental shields, Allfather.”

He smiled like he knew she’d dug around in his mind from time to time.  Her attempts to do so were rare and only when she felt a great need - such as knowing his heart on the matter of his adopted son.  “Thor, please take my son to the healers.  Sif.”  The call summoned a tall, beautiful woman with raven hair and the kind of physique that promised as much breakability as Odin’s back-thumping.  “Please show Verun and the mortal to a comfortable room, where they can await news of Loki.”

Sif bowed her head in obedience.  “If you would follow me,” she said graciously.  

They had little choice but to fall into step behind her, though Verun could feel Zoe tense as Loki was taken away. The Vanir woman walked with her head high and appeared unperturbed, as always.  Zoe wondered what it took to make her appear flustered. Don’t poke the spear-lady, she told her inner imp of the perverse firmly.   

The room they were led to was large, opulent and gold - naturally.  The food on the middle table wasn’t gold and smelled wonderful, particularly to a woman who hadn’t had a choice in two years.  The pitchers smelled alcoholic, save the smallest which was likely water.  

Verun sat down on one of the chairs and curled her legs under her.  “You should sit, Zoe.  This is likely to take some time.”

“Has Thor brought another woman from Midgard?” Sif’s voice was a touch sharp as she faced the two women, crossing her arms.

“No, this is not one of Thor’s strays.  Perhaps this one belongs to Loki.”  Verun spoke with calm nonchalance, unaware of the insult she’d just delivered.

Zoe blinked, then bristled. “So, in two sentences you’ve relegated me to _puppy_ and _property of Loki_. Gee, thanks.” The biting tone and defiant glare were certainly a contrast to the only other woman from Midgard to step foot in Asgard in Sif’s lifetime.

Verun raised an eyebrow.  “I did not call you a puppy.  I spoke of belonging to Loki in jest. Being owned by Loki is not a fate I’d wish on anyone.”  

“Calling someone a stray is saying their a homeless animal desperately looking for someone to take care of them.” She still radiated offense and sat stiffly, wanting nothing more than to be back on Earth again. _This place may be made of gold, but the people seem to **suck**._

“Perhaps on Midgard, it means only animals.  It can mean someone without a home or a place.”  Verun again resisted the urge to peer into the girl’s mind; doing so in social situations merely out of curiosity was rude.  “At least, it can in my realm.”

“Why did you jest about Loki?  Surely he is not enamoured of a mortal woman?” Sif seemed more confused than deliberately insulting.

“Hey, I have a-” A look of consternation came over Zoe and she covered half her face with her hand. “Oh, fuck, I probably _don’t_ have a home. Not after two years of unpaid rent. Dammit, that apartment was _rent-controlled_. In _LA_. Do you know how hard that is to find? Dammit!”

The two offworlders exchanged glances and Zoe realized that neither woman had the slightest clue what she’d been talking about in her rant.  In fact, Verun brushed it off entirely, saying, “Loki seemed quite interested in you, Zoe.  He mentioned that he found you touching?”

She blinked, trying to figure out exactly where Verun had gotten that from. The memory, a bit fuzzy around the edges, flooded back to her and paled, biting her lip. “Not that kind of ‘touching’. I, uh, sorta - accidentally - stopped his heart.”

“Mortals can do that?”  Sif sounded either horrified or impressed - perhaps both.  

“Zoe does.”  Verun smiled.  “Fortunately, she is singular in this talent.”

She gave them both an annoyingly bright fake smile. “That’s me, freak of the room.”

“Does that mean a mortal different than the others?” Verun didn’t want to make any more verbal faux pas.

Zoe rubbed her temples and tried not to snap at the woman; she was more stressed than angry and chided herself for taking it out on Verun. “Yeah, but in a derogatory manner. If you call someone a freak, you’re saying that they’re different in a disturbing, unwelcome way.”

“Most mortals are unwelcome in Asgard.”  Verun said it so dryly that it took Zoe a moment to realize she was sorta joking.   “I do not find you disturbing.  Do you disturb yourself?”

“Mortals are not allowed in Asgard by Odin’s decree.”  Sif pointed the obvious out with that hint of annoyance again.

“Oh, great,” Zoe muttered, then answered Verun. “And yeah, I do. Disturb myself. Nothing new there.” There was old bitterness in her words, a hurt that ran deeper than even two years as a HYDRA prisoner.

Verun had heard that mortals were strange at times but she had not had the chance to see how before.  “What do you find disturbing about yourself?”

“Huh?” The woman looked up at Verun as if she were just now joining the conversation. “Oh. Nothing. Just being overly dramatic.” She tried to wave the sentiment off, as if it truly meant nothing. She gave them both a weak smile. “Personal pity party for the recent, and apparently _illegal_ , refugee. Pay no mind, it’ll pass.”

“Are you seeking refugee status?”  Sif didn’t look very happy about the idea.  “If so, you need to make your petition to Odin.”

She buried her head in her hands this time, trying not to giggle too loudly or too hysterically. “It’s...it’s a turn of phrase. I wouldn’t want to stay somewhere I wasn’t wanted and was looked down on just for being me. Would you?”

Verun looked thoughtful.  “Depends on why they were looking down on me.  If I were a person of no value, then I deserve their scorn.  But if they were treating me as if I had no value due to their own views, I’d give treat their views as ones of little worth.  I would stare at them with all the scorn they deserve.”

“I’d rather not get broken into to very even halves, thank you.” The comment flew out of Zoe’s mouth, completely bypassing her usual self-preservation filter and lighting her cheeks up like a christmas tree. She shot Sif a startled glance, praying the warrior woman would find the comment funny and not breaking-the-mortal worthy.

Even if Sif seemed less than amused, Verun chuckled.  “Odin will not violate the rules of hospitality without reason.  That is why he’s offered you food and drink and a safe place.”  She stood and selected something that looked like cheese.  “Being a good guest is easy: eat, drink, sleep, and thank your host.”

“Sound advice, Verun.”  Odin’s voice snapped the three women to attention.  Verun had the cheese in her mouth and nearly choked on it; only Sif truly maintained her composure.  

Zoe pulled herself together as quickly as she could, watching the Asgard king with wary attentiveness. She didn’t say anything and a quick glance confirmed that the other two hadn’t started to kneel again. For that, she was grateful - her knee still smarted from the cold golden floor of the throne room.

“Zoe,” Odin said, her name sounding odd on his lips, “I have brought my healers to examine you briefly, to shed light on the sorcery done to my… to Loki.”  He gestured and a woman moved from behind him.  She looked kind enough, with a gentle expression on her serene face.  

The woman extended her hands toward Zoe, who stood nervously as the healer approached.  There was a slight tingle where the woman’s hands passed over her.  Within seconds, she was frowning.  “Do you have any abnormalities diagnosed from birth?”

“No,” Zoe answered hesitantly. “I don’t think so. They never said anything. I was...I was injured as a child, but that was years ago, before anything weird started happening.”

“I don’t know what was done to you but you have severe OM damage.”  The woman’s face had shifted to a mask of professional compassion.  “I’m surprised you’re alive, in all honesty.  Someone had attempted to fuse your thread of life with another’s - twisted a third strand in where there were only two.  They have done so incompletely.  Frankly, I can’t imagine how to begin to correct it.”

It took a minute for Zoe to translate, but the time talking to Verun had actually helped with that. “Wait, what? They messed with my DNA?” She went ghost white, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. Hadn’t her body been through enough in life already? Was she going to sprout another arm now or something?

The room started to spin, like it had when Loki had told her the date, but this time she didn’t have anything to lean up against and she couldn’t catch her breath. The small things in the room, cloth and plates and decorations, began to rattle and slide in a dozen different directions as her mind spiraled into panic.

A cool hand settled on her shoulder and the jagged edges of her panic disappeared.  If felt like they’d been drawn away into a cool, deep well.  When she looked, it was Verun touching her.  The Vanir held herself very still despite the panic that now coursed through her.  A lifetime of dealing with other people’s emotions helped her distance herself from them.  

Zoe’s legs crumbled as her powerful emotions released her; Verun caught her and lifted her like a child.  With insulting ease, she carried her to a couch and laid her down.  “Did you get what you need?” she asked the healer.

“I did.”  The woman inclined her head.  “Thank her, when she’s recovered.”  Together, she and Odin left the room.

“Unless you have more trauma for her, perhaps you should go, too.”  Verun glanced coolly at Sif, her expression bland.  “She will likely need time to rest.”  Sif left after a long considering look at Zoe.

Sitting on the low stool next to the couch, Verun waited patiently for Zoe to pass through the first stages of shock and fear.  When the emotions became too much for the young woman, the Vanir woman would siphon off a bit of the excess.  Long practice had taught her not to take all the emotions - the mind needed to process through the feelings.  Instead, she drew off the worst of it, then expunged it from herself with mediation.

It wasn’t easy, on either end.  The temptation to take everything away was strong - it was a shortcut but Verun knew the damage it could do.  On the other side, she had to deal with the feelings themselves; while they had started in another’s heart, there were places for them gain hold in Verun’s mind.  Zoe’s fear and panic tried to rouse her own terrors regarding her deeply-buried secrets but she met each fear logically, mentally disarming it.

She looked up only when Thor entered.  Seeing the tableau, he sank quietly into a chair and promptly fell asleep.  Verun envied him for a moment before returning her attention to Zoe.  Gradually, thankfully, Zoe passed into an exhausted slumber herself, effectively releasing her own worries.  Verun wanted to sleep but she needed sustenance as well.  She tore off a hunk of bread and cheese and devoured them; she was washing it all down with mead when Odin entered the room again.  This time, Loki trailed behind him in silver chains.  He glared at her impressively; someone must have told him who had been sent to retrieve him.

“Thor.”  Odin gently shook his eldest son’s arm.  The prince woke up with a start, relaxing when he saw his father.  “Thor, Loki is returning to his cell.  I thought you might wish to speak with him first.”  All joy fled from Thor’s expression and he gazed from his father to his brother, stricken.

“Yes, send me away with words of comfort, brother,” Loki sneered.

Verun moved to Zoe’s side and shook her awake.  She’d seemed attached to the jotun male; perhaps she wished to see him one more time.  Given Aesir jail sentences, she’d likely be dead before he was free again.

The mortal woman came too sleepily, but sat up quickly once she caught sight of Odin and Loki. She frowned and blurted out, “Loki? What’s going on? Why are you chained up?”

“Loki must serve penance for his crimes.”  Odin’s voice was firm and his expression neutral.  Verun thought, _He’s too controlled._

Three more women appeared in the room, all robed in blue.  Their face and eyes were the same, as were their physiques.  There was only the color of their long hair to show the difference.  Thor jumped to his feet; Verun had her knife out and dropped into a fighting stance.  “Norn,” Odin said, showing only vague distaste.  “What can the realm of Asgard do for you today?”

“We have come to see the visitors to your realm.”  One of the women, long silver hair hanging to the waist of her blue dress, stepped forward without waiting for Odin’s invitation.  She stared closely at Verun and then Zoe before taking a long look at Loki.  Thor merited a brief glance before she turned to the other two norn.  

Silent communication passed between them and the one with black hair spoke.  “Loki must not go to the cells.”  As startled pleasure crossed the adopted prince’s face, she continued, “He must return to Midgard.”

“Norn, why do you say this?”  Odin frowned deeply.  “You were the ones who insisted that Loki should be executed.  It was only the love of my wife that swayed your counsel.”

“Something has changed with regards to the prince.”  The woman with raven hair spoke again.

The norn who had not spoken, the one with the red hair, said, “He will be needed in the coming time.  He must be on Midgard for the upheaval.”

“The Midgardians will not allow him to remain there.”  Thor looked between the women.  “He has done much damage to them.”

“His family can watch him,” the black haired norn replied.  

Thor frowned.  “I can watch him some of the time but I’m not always free to monitor him.”

“His sister will assist.”  Odin spoke blandly, without looking at anyone in the room.

Thor and Loki did simultaneous double-takes at their father.  “My what?” Loki asked as Thor murmured, “He has a sister?”

Verun glared at the Allfather.  “It was a secret.”

“You!” Loki seethed, moving to stand in front of Verun.  “You are my sister?  How?”

“Laufey had two children of one womb.”  The silver-haired Norn spoke.  “One was given to him, a son and heir whom he disposed of.  The second went with her mother to Vanaheim.”

Verun’s irritation with Odin faded as she glanced at Loki.  She held herself still, not sure what to do or say.  She’d never intended on telling him about their connection.  She’d never wanted him to know; now that he did, she felt oddly vulnerable.

“Why did no one tell me?”  Loki spun to face his father, rage twisting his features.

“She was already half-grown when I learned of her.”  Odin’s features remained impassive.

“And telling me would shatter your web of lies.”  Loki glared at him before turning to Verun.  “When did you learn?”

“When I spent time on Jotunheim, as a young woman.  I learned of Laufey and his son then, and it was not hard to discern that where there was one baby, there could be two.”  Verun’s green eyes, similar to Loki’s, locked with his.  “It took time but I found the midwife who attended the birth and received confirmation.”  Her chin lifted a fraction.  “I doubt the Allfather would have appreciated me telling you; further, who was I, a Vanir commoner, to approach the younger prince of Asgard and tell him that he was half-jotun?”

“Half-jotun?” Loki asked uneasily.

“Our mother was a Vanir sorceress.”  Verun smiled with a touch of pride.  “Do you think jotun have your skill at magic?”  

Loki seemed speechless for once.  Thor was starting to smile, a pleased look settling into his features as he took in the information.  Odin gave away nothing as he said to Verun, “Return to Midgard and help Thor keep him out of trouble.”

Verun sighed and nodded, then turned to speak to the Norn.  They were gone, having disappeared at some point in the conversation.   _Typical._  

“Come,” Thor said softly, his voice a warm rumble of sound.  “Let us return to the Bifrost.”


	13. Sanctuary

It was another five minutes after the offworlders had left before the jet appeared.  No one spoke; the only sound was the wind howling across the plateau.  They watched as the jet maneuvered and set down vertically on a level patch of ground not far away. A few members of the crew disembarked, a stretcher loaded with a body bag.

Natasha’s breathing, which had been even and stable, now caught.  Emma turned to her with concern but the woman appeared to be made of ice.  In contrast, Bucky looked away, wiping at his face as new tears came.  The team set down the stretcher next to the body, opening the body bag.  “We have it,” Natasha said, her voice hoarse.

The team stepped back as Steve’s wife picked up the upper corners of Thor’s cloak and Bucky picked up the lower part.  Together, they lifted him into the body bag, cloak and all.  Natasha carefully followed Thor’s cape over his body, as if to protect him from the touch of the black plastic.  She used his shield to hold the cape in place and carefully zipped it shut.

She and Bucky helped the team carry it inside and secure it to a bench.  Then they took seats on either side of the body, strapped themselves in, and waited to leave.

Tony went straight to his private room and stripped out of his armor.  He got out the bottle of scotch and poured himself a glass.  “Tony?”  Emma’s voice stopped him before he could raise the glass.  “Where should I tell the pilot to go?”

“Sanctuary.”  Tony stared at the glass for another beat before putting the bottle to his lips and taking a long pull.  Fuck it.  It’s my scotch.  “Make sure they follow all the protocols - I wouldn’t want to upset the Bird.”

“Tony…”  Emma’s voice was full of concern and he tensed.  He didn’t want her sympathy right now; he wanted to drink this heartache away.  He’d finally understood the lesson that the world had been trying to teach him: it didn’t matter what he did, it was all going to shit.  Thankfully, Emma just stepped forward and squeezed his arm before leaving.   _Thank God she didn’t ask for a hug.  I can not handle that touch-feely crap right now,_ he thought as he emptied the glass and started to drink from the bottle.

It was a long flight to Sanctuary, which was located under the wide expanse of eastern Colorado.  The isolation was the first layer of protection for the facility before reaching the armaments and security measures Tony had installed for them.  The jet set down on a small landing spot at what appeared to be a private dude ranch.  That was the next layer of defense: the entrance was obscured within a business.

A van was waiting for them.  Normally they would have no problem walking to the garage to the entrance of the city but the pilot had decided that spy satellites or overhead fliers didn’t need to see them unload a body bag.  The team backed the van up the loading ramp and Natasha and Bucky carried Steve onto the van.  Once Tony and Emma joined them, the van was driven over to the long barn where the vehicles were kept.  

Hawkeye waited for them inside, his arms crossed over his chest.  His expression was terse with worry but his features relaxed when the back opened and he saw Natasha.  A second later, he read the emotions on her face and grief crossed his.  “Nat,” he murmured, reaching out to offer her a hand out of the vehicle.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.”  Her expression remained stone cold but Clint wasn’t fooled; he knew her better than anyone else and he could see the trauma in her eyes.  The fact that she let him help her out of the van spoke volumes to her mental and emotional health

“What do you need?” he asked as she turned back and grabbed the stretcher, sliding it toward her.   Hawkeye eyed Bucky as the former Winter Soldier picked up the head of the stretcher but no one protested and he didn’t ask about him.

“James,” she said softly and her voice wavered as she said her son’s name.  

“He’s waiting at the bottom of the elevator,” Clint told her.  He moved to her side and helped her with the stretcher; after a moment, Tony grabbed a corner from Bucky and aided with the carry.  The billionaire was a touch unsteady on his feet but not enough to concern anyone, not with the focus falling primarily on Natasha.  

Emma followed behind, watching quietly.  She had met Hawkeye a handful of times, and only very briefly for most of them.  She held on to the weapon, determined not to let anyone else possess it until she decided for herself who could be trusted.  Stark was the most obvious choice, but he wasn’t in the proper state of mind at the moment to deal with it, and she didn’t want to pass it over to any of Sanctuary’s scientists until she could talk to him about it.  So she kept it to herself, carrying it in a metal first aid kit that she had emptied out aboard the plane and sealed with her abilities once the gun was inside.  No one needed to see it or handle it until then, it was too dangerous.

The elevator was concealed behind a large tool box, its doors opening only when the right code was typed into the automotive diagnostic computer.  The ‘mechanic’, in truth a loyal member of Clint’s security team, had already entered the code and they could see the open doors behind the tool box.  Rolling it away, Clint gestured for them to board.  

When Emma stepped forward, his eyes narrowed and he looked to Tony.  “I made her an Avenger,” the billionaire said in answer to the unasked question in the other man’s eyes.

“Wait, what?”  Clint waved her forward, even as he said, “Don’t we all have to agree to that?  Can you just _do_ that?”

“Everyone else was fine with it,” Tony snarled, “and now?  It is not the time.”

“What about him?” Hawkeye asked, pointing at Bucky.  The man looked immediately guilty, his eyes dropping and darting away from everyone else.

“Clint.  It’s fine.  Ste-”  Natasha visibly fought for composure.  “Bucky should be here,” she said softly.  The former Winter Soldier looked even more guilty at her words.  The archer didn’t look convinced but he got on the elevator and pressed the single button on the panel.  The doors closed and the machine whirled softly, the occupants feeling a downward motion.  

When they opened, it was into Sanctuary’s security room.  There were several armed men pointing guns at the doors; when they saw it was them, they didn’t lower the weapons.  “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, ladies and gents,” Clint said as he walked forward and the gun lowered at the code phrase.  The armed soldiers stepped aside as everyone disembarked from the car.  

Clint led them down a short hallway.  The hall opened up into a sprawling cavern, brightly lit with streetlights.  The walkways were laid out in patterns, designed to break up the area into a more organic feel instead of a harsh grid.  The buildings were a diverse array of styles, though the styles were clustered together to show some order.  They were on a ledge about one story up and a set of steps led to the main floor of the cavern.

Hawkeye turned around and spread his arms like a tour guide.  “Welcome to Sanctuary.  This is Alpha Cavern, and it goes up through the phonic alphabet - Bravo, Charlie, and so on - to the northwest, if you want to explore, new people.”

A woman had been waiting for them with a baby in her arms; when she saw Natasha, she cooed, “Look, James, there’s Mommy!”

Nobody missed the hesitation as Natasha saw the child.  She struggled for composure, feeling an urge to run.  She knew herself well enough to know that if she started to run from her son to protect herself, she’d never stop running.  Holding out an arm, she nodded for the caretaker to put the boy in her arms.  With only a second of hesitation, the woman passed over the baby, her eyes sliding to the bodybag that Natasha still helped carry.

“This way,” Clint said softly and guided the group down the stairs to a fleet of small vehicles.  Steve’s body rode in the bed of the largest, his four pallbearers taking seats next to him.  The others climbed aboard the other vehicles; once everyone was secured, they headed deeper into the city.  

The inhabitants were out and about, proceeding with their days.  They watched the vehicles and waved at the occupants, happy to see the Avengers visiting.  None of them knew the sad cargo their guests had brought with them.  Natasha hugged her son closer, shutting her eyes to the sight of the welcoming inhabitants.

Clint had them taken to the morgue.  The small building rested in the corner of Beta Cavern’s medical labs, away from residential areas.  Just past it was the small cemetery that would be Captain America’s final resting place.  It seemed wrong to have a secret grave, but the world wasn’t ready for Steve Rogers to be dead.   _I’m not ready to lose Steve yet,_ Tony thought, even as he knew he had no choice in the matter.   _None of us are._

They carried the stretcher into the small building; this time, Natasha gave up her corner to focus solely on her son.  She hovered close as they set him down on a gurney.  A doctor entered the room, her face already wrinkling into a frown.  Her badge read Narang.  “Mr. Barton?” she asked in a clipped British Indies accent.  “Is this our secret guest?”

“Yes.”  Clint unzipped the bodybag enough to show the shield.  “You understand why I need discretion, Doc?”

“Of course.”  Her dark eyes locked onto his.  “I expect that you will tell people at some point.”

“Yes, but I want-”  Hawkeye glanced at Natasha.  “I think we should know what killed him first.  People are going to ask those questions and we’ll need to have calm answers ready.  Plus… it’ll be a few hours before we have an answer, right?”

“At least,” Dr. Narang said crisply.  

“That’ll give people some time.”  He looked at Natasha again.

Emma cleared her throat quietly, drawing Hawkeye's attention.  "We know what killed him.  It was a H.Y.D.R.A weapon, an energy gun of some sort.  It passed right through his shield, I saw it.  We just don't know how."  Her fingers tightened involuntarily around the sealed metal box.

“That will be part of what I determine, then.”  Dr. Narang looked at them with stern features which she attempted to soften.  She waited a beat and said firmly, “I would like to start now.”

“C’mon, no one here needs to see this.”  Clint slipped to Natasha’s side, whispering something to her.  She nodded and headed for the door, her eyes lingering on the shield that had been her husband’s defining symbol.  The head of Sanctuary’s security waved the rest of them out the door.

They got the Avengers and company back on the electric carts and drove them to a large, modern-style building.  The Avengers’ logo was splayed across the front and Clint drove right into the garage on the first floor.  “Your rooms are ready, those of you who have rooms here.  Emma, I’ll get you set up in the room off Tony’s la-”

“She doesn’t need to be attached to my hip.”  Tony sounded annoyed.  

“Tony…” Clint tilted his head.  “It’s been left open for a while.  We don’t really have the sp-”

“Fine.  Put her wherever.”  Tony turned and marched away, his shoulders rigid with tension.

“What am I missing?”  Emma asked, forcing back anger at the way Tony had spoken about her.   _‘Put her wherever’?_

“That was Pepper’s room.  She kept a place here for when she needed a place to work.”  Clint sighed, rubbing his face.   “I’ll give you another room.  I guess he’s not over her.”

“I don’t know that he’ll ever be over her,” Emma said softly.

Clint showed her and Bucky to two rooms on the third floor.  “The funeral will be later tonight, and the wake after that.  At least, that was what we did for Bruce.”  He glanced between the two of them. “The phones are internal; they’ll call the attendants, who’ll get you anything you need.”

Emma entered her room; they’d designed it to be really generic and it felt like a hotel room, albeit one that looked out into an artificial cave.  With a sigh, she settled down to wait, only to realize she had nothing appropriate to wear to a funeral.  Picking up the phone, she called to make arrangements.  It may have been a shallow problem but it took her mind off the horror of losing Captain America.

 


	14. Heavy Burdens

The notice about the funeral went out just two hours later. There was a public announcement from Clint that went out over the airwaves, and lit signs around the underground city displayed the time and location. One of them was visible from Bucky’s borrowed room.

He sat in a chair, balancing on the back legs with his feet propped on the windowsill. Below him, the tenor of the city changed as the citizens processed the news. He heard more than one person start to cry.

 _It should have been me. Then only Steve would be the one crying. Maybe Verun_. Bucky didn’t want Steve to be sad but better sad than dead. _He should be the one alive._

A tap on the door caught his attention and Bucky dropped the chair to the floor. Standing, he went to the entrance and opened it. A man smiled up at him but it was a queasy smile. “Sir, I’m Joshua. I came to help you get ready for the funeral.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.” Bucky started to close the door, uninterested in primping.

“We could loan you something,” Joshua offered. “I can clean your clothing, if you want to be presentable for the funeral.”

Bucky reined in his temper. This man was trying to help, and Steve would at least shower and wear clean clothing. “You’re right.” He was keenly aware of his arm as he said, “If you could leave some toiletries and let me leave the clothing outside the door to be cleaned?”

Joshua relaxed, his relief ill-concealed. “If that’s what makes you comfortable, yes.” He left for a few minutes, returning with a small bundle of soap, shampoo, and shaving cream. Joshua also put a few towels on one of the chairs. “The top one is a robe.”

“Thanks.” Bucky waited until he was gone before stripping and putting on the robe. Leaving the clothing outside the door, he quickly showered and shaved. It felt weird to finally be clean; a life fighting a one-man war against HYDRA had left little time for certain personal considerations. He usually grabbed a quick shower when he could and it was odd to think he had to be absolutely scrubbed, out of respect to Steve.

It took two hours but a knock on the door was Joshua returning with the cleaned garments. Joshua looked surprised at Bucky’s improved appearance. “Here you go, Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky’s fine.” He took the clothing with his right arm, leaving the left hand hidden behind the door. “Thanks. For this.”

“It’s my pleasure to serve the Avengers… and uh, their friends.” Joshua stumbled verbally but recovered with a smile. “Do you need anything else?”

 _Only the strength to bury the only man I care about in the world._ “No, I’m good.” When the door shut, he dressed and went back to his chair by the window.

The people started to gather about forty minutes before. He saw them lining up downstairs, waiting to be allowed into the building for the funeral. Barton came for him about thirty minutes before the ceremony. “Come on, we’re doing it downstairs. Natasha’s asking for you to help carry in the casket.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Bucky said, realizing in a rush of nerves that he had unknown obligations to fulfill.

“Relax. Follow my lead.” Clint clapped him on the left shoulder, wincing slightly when Bucky firmly removed the hand. “Look, just do what I do and don’t trip over your feet. It’ll be fine.”

Bucky followed Clint downstairs. Natasha waited in her superhero outfit, while Tony wore a somber suit and Emma wore a simple black dress and heels. He nodded nervously, noting how they seemed surprised to see him clean. _Steve was the only person alive to see me like this - looking like a man instead of a slob._

Together, the group got into the large delivery truck. It was electric like all the others and there was only the softest of whirs as the truck wound through the city back to the morgue. Another crowd waited outside of that building, their faces set in sorrow and grief. When they saw the Avengers disembark, the sounds of grief increased.

Steve’s casket was waiting in the hallway. Dr. Nanang waited next to it, her hand protectively on the lid. Barton nodded to her and she opened the coffin to show Steve laid out in his uniform, his shield resting on his chest. “Take the shield out,” Natasha said softly and everyone looked at her. “He said that the shield belonged to the legend, not the man. He wouldn’t want to be buried with it.”

Clint reached for it but Natasha stopped him again. “Bucky, I think he’d want you to carry it.”

The former assassin paled. “What? Me? I can’t-”

Tony picked it up and pushed it against his chest. “It’s what Steve wants, it’s what will happen. Just shut up and do it, Barnes.”

Bucky reluctantly curled his fingers around the edges then slipped it over his right arm. Natasha smiled brittlely. “He’d say you need a haircut but he’d like it.”

“If someone has a holder, I can put it back,” Bucky offered hesitantly.

Natasha glanced at Dr. Nanang, who disappeared for a moment. When she came back, she handed it to Natasha, who turned to Emma. “Would you mind?”

“Not at all. Hold still, Bucky.” She stepped behind him, and smoothed her fingers gently through his hair. It felt... nice, to be touched by someone so casually, without them flinching away. Apparently Verun wasn’t the only one in this group that wasn’t skittish of him. It was nothing inappropriate, just a simple combing motion with her fingers, then she fastened his hair back at the nape of his neck with the hair tie.

“Now turn around,” she said, and reached up to tuck a strand or two behind his ears, so he didn’t look disheveled. “There… you probably haven’t looked so presentable since Truman was in office,” she said with a soft, sympathetic smile.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said softly, feeling self conscious holding the shield.

They arranged the casket between them. Bucky ended up on the right front corner, his left hand locked around the handle and his right arm holding the shield before him. Hawkeye was at the other front corner, while Natasha followed Bucky, one arm full with James. Bucky didn’t know the man behind her but he seemed to know everyone else; his name was Phil. Tony and Emma mirrored Phil and Natasha, while two women, Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis, were the last people.

It was an awkward feeling: he was in a position of honor that he hadn’t earned, while people who knew Steve better - or at least more recently - were stuck at the back. Still, no one told him he wasn’t welcome and he remained at his corner, doing what he could to take most of the weight on his metal arm.

They didn’t get back in the vehicle but instead began to walk across Bravo toward the Avengers’ Place in Alpha. It wasn’t a long walk for Bucky but he wasn’t sure about the others and he kept his pace slow to ease their efforts.

“Yeah.” Tony muttered softly. Emma’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head slightly and she realized he was talking to JARVIS. “What? Thor brought Loki back? Yeah, fine, let him into the guests area of the tower. Oh, and tell him: Loki, stay out of my stuff. No sex in my bedroom. Don’t drink all my liquor. Oh, and no murder, mayhem, or conquest of anywhere I keep my stuff. And I’m a global company, so leave my planet alone.”

He fell silent as Emma frowned. She was shocked that Tony had allowed the Invader of Manhattan into his home with so little argument. Now didn’t seem like the right time to argue with him.

The procession wound its way through Sanctuary, as people fell into step behind them. The crowd of people slowly grew as they moved through the city. Those following the heroes hung back a respectful distance, their mourning a soft hum of noise behind the casket. Every time Bucky glanced over his shoulder, the line stretched back further.

A sudden explosion of air drew everyone’s attention, the guards and Avengers jumping to attention. They relaxed a second later as Thor dropped out of the sky and landed next to Jane. They exchanged a quick hug, Jane wrapping her free arm around Thor as far as she could. Then Darcy waved for him to take her position on the casket, allowing the Aesir to help honor his friend.

At the building set aside for the heroes, Joshua and a woman held the front doors. Clint steered the coffin, guiding Bucky and the rest through the building into a large room. The coffin was taken to the front, where a table waited.

As they walked, Bucky had the time to take a long look at the area. It felt like a conference room, all bland neutral tones, but also like a cathedral. Images of the Avengers had been painted in framed stills, as if they were stained glass windows. A black ribbon crossed the corner of the image of Bruce Banner; Bucky found it interesting that the fresco showed only the human man. From what little he knew from the articles he’d read, he thought that Banner might have insisted on that.

The painting of Steve tightened his chest and turned his throat into a solid lump. Steve looked up, just as he’d done his whole life, his eyes rising to a point above them. His shield was held in front of him, both a guard and a vow of protection. _He’d died protecting another. I don’t think he’d want it any other way._ That he’d died protecting a man he didn’t like or trust just seemed perfect, as if even Steve’s death needed to underscore the selflessness by which he’d lived.

The eight bearers put the coffin on the table. Bucky followed Clint toward the side of the room, but Natasha stopped him with a quick hand on his arm, positioning him next to head of the coffin. There were no seats; people just filed into the room, not quite filling the space halfway. Under the weight of their eyes, Bucky felt naked and he instinctively held the shield in front of his body. Just as it had in Steve’s hands, it protected, even if that protection was only from others’ eyes. The other Avengers stood to the side, their expressions sad and pained. Phil Coulson moved to stand close to the Avengers but not too close, holding himself aloof.

Natasha moved from Bucky’s side, stepping forward and catching the attention of the crowd. She shifted her son so that the baby looked out into the room. “I’m not someone who likes to talk. Many of you were here when Bruce left us, and many of you remember the nice eulogy that St-Steve gave at that time.” Her stutter over her husband’s name was her only sign of grief but from those that knew her, it was tantamount to racking tears from another spouse.

“He had a lot of nice things to say about Bruce, talking about his courage and his sacrifice. And when Pepper died, Steve was the one who spoke again. He was always good at this: seeing the best in everyone, and reminding us of their best at the darkest times.” Natasha paused, slipping her thumb into her son’s fist. He grabbed at her red hair, grinning toothlessly. “I don’t need to do that today. No one needs reminding of Steve’s good qualities. Anyone who knew him even briefly knew his qualities.

“For those that don’t know him, this is all you need to know about Steve.” Natasha smiled as her eyes became glassy with a hint of tears but not one fell. “He was lauded around the world as a hero, revered as the first human to step beyond the bounds of human ability. That never went to his head and I know that the accomplishments that meant the most to him were his family. Not just his son, but the family he’d made in the Avengers.” She tightened her hands around her son until he squirmed lightly in her arms. “That is what he’d want to be remembered for - not his heroics or the years he spent working for SHIELD. He’d want to be remembered for his family.”

Cries and soft sobs had risen during her words; many people were openly crying. Tony Stark stood stiff and furious, his grief transformed into rage. Thor had his eyes closed, his arms around Jane and Darcy, one cuddling and one friendly. Clint had his hands behind his back, his stance parade rest and eyes stony. Emma stood next to Tony, weeping silently. Phil Coulson wiped at his eyes, not bothering to hide his grief. Bucky didn’t think he had any more tears in him, but he found more. He pressed his hand to his face but that didn’t stop the drops that rolled down his face. He ducked his head behind the shield, so he could pretend that they weren’t watching him.

A hand on Bucky’s arm jarred him out of his weeping fit. He glanced from behind the shield to see Clint, his expression sympathetic. “Over here,” he murmured, leading Bucky back to the front of the coffin. The other six were already in position and once more they lifted Captain America’s casket into the air. The eight of them carried it to a doorway which led down a flight of stairs. Bucky shivered when he realized they’d just walked into a crypt.

The room had been carved out of the bedrock, with white marble plaques already carved for Pepper Potts and Bruce Banner on the wall. A hole next to the two plaques waited, large enough to accommodate the coffin. A blank stone cover the same color as the bedrock was leaning against the wall below the hole, ready to seal Steve’s body away until a fancier plaque could be created.

Thor and Jane placed their end in first and the others slid Steve’s casket feet-first into his final resting place. Clint and Natasha changed places, and she and Bucky were the last to touch his coffin. Bucky pressed his metal hand against the cold metal, wishing that anyone else other than Steve was in that box. Natasha rubbed her hand over the coffin and whispered, “Goodbye, Steve.”

Then it was over, and Captain America was gone. Bucky’s best friend was gone; all he had left was the cold metal of a shield he had no right to carry.


	15. The New Normal

Heimdall deposited the mostly alien group on the top of Avenger’s Tower.  The previous stamp of the Bifrost’s use made it clear this spot was often used as a landing place for Asgard’s visitors.  Thor led them to a door, where a tinny voice issued a challenge.  “Mr. Thor, Sir has made his wishes on the criminal Loki’s presence in the building clear.  I cannot allow you to pass without authorization.”

“Contact him.”  Thor crossed his arms.  “We will wait.”

“Are you taking orders from a  _door_ ?” Loki asked with a smirk.

“No, from the house wight that manages Tony’s holdings.  He is invisible and omnipresent.”  Thor gazed at the closed door with patience.  “He is called JARVIS.”

Verun nodded to the door.  “Greetings, JARVIS.  I am Verun.”  It seemed best to introduce herself to any spirits attached to the building.

“Welcome, Ms. Verun.  I am pleased to see you have recovered from the fight earlier.  Zoe Satelle, I did not have a chance to say so before, but I am glad to see you safely found.”  The electronic voice made her jump a little when it said her name.

“Uh, when would you have had a chance to say so before?” She asked with wide eyes, feeling utterly creeped out that the AI seemed to know who she was. “This is the first time we’ve, uh, met? Right?” The last came out as a squeak and she winced at how pathetic she sounded.

“I was present in Sir’s suit but I was busy attending to Sir’s needs.”  JARVIS sounded almost apologetic despite his monotone voice.  “I did have the time to reference your face in SHIELD’s uploaded files and notify Sir that you have been found.  I hope it wasn’t too forward but I passed on the good news to other people looking for you.”

“Looking for me? Sheild? Why would anyone be looking for me? I mean, the cops, I guess, but not after two years….”  _What the hell is going **on**?_

“I have a list of people seeking information on you through public channels if you would like to review it.”  JARVIS seemed eager to please.  “At the moment, Sir has granted me permission to allow you all to access to his tower.  Please note that you are restricted from certain areas.  Sir also has the following rules.”

Tony Stark’s voice came out of the speaker.  “Loki, stay out of my stuff.  No sex in my bedroom.  Don’t drink all my liquor.  Oh, and no murder, mayhem, or conquest of anywhere I keep my stuff.  And I’m a global company, so leave my planet alone.”

“I am going to attend the funeral of our fallen brethren.”  Thor looked at Loki, his blue eyes turning stern.  “You are Tony Stark’s guest, brother.  Remember that.”

“Yes, yes.  I shall be a good little boy so long as I am in his house.”  Loki spoke guilelessly. 

Zoe started to raise her hand nervously but Thor beat her to the punch. “You will be well-behaved regardless of where you are on Midgard.  You are a guest of this realm.”  Loki rolled his eyes but said nothing.  “I will be back once the funeral is concluded.” 

The godling took a step back from them and pulled his hammer off his belt.  He began to spin it, then threw himself and his weapon into the air.  The three watched him disappear into the sky.

In front of them, the door opened.  “If you will allow me to show you to guest rooms, I would be happy to entertain you until Sir returns.”

The AI used verbal directions to guide them to an elevator, down to another floor, and then to a suite of rooms.  The rooms were all spacious, clustered around a long central room.  They were decorated in tasteful, neutral colors.  The bedrooms were the same and the attached bathrooms were luxurious.  Once the guests were in the living area that connected the half-dozen bedrooms, he spoke again.  “I apologize for the lack of privacy but Sir asked me to ‘keep you all in one place’.  You are free to chose whatever available rooms you wish as your own.  Also, if you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask me for it.”

“I’d like those files. The ones on me, and the people looking for me,” Zoe piped up immediately, more concerned about strangers poking around in her life -  _again_ \- than in where she was going to spend the night.

“Once you have chosen a room, I will gladly upload that information to your screen.” 

“That one.”  Zoe pointed to a door.

JARVIS was silent for a beat.  “You have the information now, Ms. Satelle.”

She gave the two aliens a glance before heading into the room, saying, “I’ll be in here, reading up on my stalkers, if you guys need me or anything.”

Verun looked to Loki then pointed to another door.  “I shall take this one.  If you wish to talk, you know where to find me.”

The God of Mischief took the third room in the suite, stepping inside just long enough to turn around and declare, “Well, this is stunningly boring.”

“I can assist you with entertain-”

Loki waved the voice into silence.  “No, no, spirit.  I can manage that quite well by myself.” 

Long, quick strides brought him back to the main room and then to Zoe’s newly acquired room. In her haste to read the documents JARVIS had uploaded for her, she’d left the door ajar and Loki stalked inside silently. She was sitting at a small desk set in an alcove off the side of the room, the screen of her computer filled with bureaucratic texted and the SHIELD heraldry as a watermark.

He leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “What are you learning?”

Her startled jump was satisfyingly entertaining, as was the glare she shot him. “That some creepy government organization has been spying on me since I was- since my family died. What are  _you_ doing, other than scaring the bejeezus out of me?”

“Scaring the bejeezus out of you.”  He smiled, an expression that was both alluring and unsettling.  “Are you bored?  I’m very bored.”

_Do **not** suggest what just came to mind as a cure for boredom._ She really hoped she wasn’t blushing. Again. “Uh, creepy government...spying on me…?” She sighed. “Even if I’m not, that’s not going to matter much, is it?” She glanced at the screen and asked, “I don’t suppose you know who these ‘SHIELD’ people are? Other than major dorks with a thing for acronyms. And spying on little girls.”

“It is some  _mortal_ thing,” Loki said tiredly, as if the entire thing were beneath him.  “Some kind of group that had toys and soldiers.  I had it explained to me once but I didn’t care enough to remember it all.”

She sighed and worried at her lip with her teeth, staring at the screen and scrolling through the master list of files in the folder. “There’s  _years_ of files in here. My medical records. My college transcripts. Recordings of my concerts. Why do all of that? I’m not anyone important.”

“Agreed.  You don’t seem worth the effort.”  He stared at her for a moment and then put his hand under her arm.  She glanced up at him to rebuke the touch - or perhaps encourage it, she wasn’t sure which way her mouth was going to go - when her seat disappeared and the grip on her arm was the only thing that kept her from falling on her ass. 

“You are so clumsy,” Loki told her as he hauled her back to her feet.  They were in an alley and still in New York; the tower they’d just been in rose before them.  “Come along, then.”  With the grip on her arm, he led her out of the alley and into the coffee shop they’d just appeared next to.  Loki stopped, looking at the board above the barista.  “ _Frappuccino_ ?  What in the name of Hel is this place?”

Zoe snorted, her original anger at being kidnapped  _again_ dissolving under amusement. “It’s a Starbucks, which is probably  _like_ the second circle of hell, but the coffee is pretty good. Or at least expensive.” She held up her hands, “And don’t look at me to buy you one. The refugee is still penniless. And shoeless, so thanks for the tromp through the alley and along a New York street.”

“You are welcome.”  It was impossible to tell if he was mocking her or not.  “No matter.  We merely need a place to wait.”

“Wait? For what?” Irritation had crept into her voice and she pulled him over to one of the small tables. She hadn’t been kidding - her feet were killing her from Asgard and a walk across hot asphalt hadn’t improved things. The stares from some of the other patrons also reminded her that the two of them looked like a pair of Ren Faire rejects, but that was hardly the weirdest thing most New Yorkers would see in a day. She plopped her chin in her hand and pouted at the menu. “They do have kick ass white hot chocolates, though. I haven’t had one of those since...the concert tour in DC six years ago.”

Loki rose and approached the counter.  “I demand a white hot chocolate.”

“What size?” the girl asked cheerfully.

“The size appropriate for a commoner of slight stature.”  Loki held his head high, awaiting his tribute.

The smile slipped a touch.  “Uh… suuuuuure.  Grande it is.  That’s five-twelve.”

“Five-twelve what?” Loki asked, annoyed.  “Speak clearly, wench.”

The smile became brittle.  “Five dollars,” she said, enunciating each word as if talking to a six year old, “and twelve cents.”

“I have none of these dollars.  Only this.”  He plunked a small gold coin on the counter.

“I can’t take  _fake money_ , sir.”  The barista had clearly reached the end of her patience.

“What kind of shop won’t take gold?”  Loki peered at the woman as if she might be mentally impaired.

“Gold?”  The girl picked up the coin with a dubious look, then shrugged and bit it. Her expression changed the moment she saw the teeth marks in the soft metal.  “It’s real gold?  Oh, sir, I’m so sorry!  Yes, of course, we’ll take gold.”  Zoe watched as the girl pocketed the gold, then pulled a credit card from her own pocket and charged the drink to it. 

Two minutes later, a proud Loki set two cups on the table.  “She gave me something called an ‘espresso on the house’ due to my statue and position.”

She was trying very  _very_ hard not to laugh in his face. She managed a droll, “Because that’s what the world needs:  _you_ hyped on caffeine.” She took the hot chocolate and nodded in appreciation. “Thanks, by the way. Um, out of curiosity was that coin  _pure_ gold?”

“Of course.  What else would it be made of?”  Before she could reply, he said, “Now I’m bored again.  What is there to  _do_ here?”

She shrugged and pried the lid off her drink, taking a swig of mostly whipped cream and getting it smeared all over her lips. “There are museums, plays, movies, restaurants, tourist traps, staring at the general weirdness that is New Yorkers. What do you usually do when you’re bored?”

“Explore the secret paths through the realms, fight monsters using illusions, practice magic, read a book - the normal things.”  Loki shrugged.  “I do not know what a movies is.  Or a tourist trap.”

“Okay….that’s a bit of a ‘normal’ to try to top. Movies are recorded plays at their base. Plays with really good illusions, I guess. A tourist trap is some sort of shop or entertainment designed to fleece the money from visitors.” She bit her lip, thinking. “We’re fresh out of monsters. I think. I  _hope_ . We could go to the library, if you want to find something to read. There’s tons around the city.”

He sighed and took a sip of his drink.  Making a slight face at the bitterness, he said, “Why, to learn about Midgardian culture?  I understand that your people only recently realized they were not alone in the realms.”

“We only acquired scientifically verifiable proof recently,” she countered. “There have been religions and conspiracy theorists for as far back as we have records saying one thing or another. And there’s other stuff we write down. Fiction, scientific discoveries. Crossword puzzles...” She shrugged and swiped his espresso from his hands, tipping part of her own drink into it to make it sweeter. She held it back out to him, challenging, “ _You’re_ the one that’s bored. We could check out the community board, I guess.”

She motioned over the ubiquitous coffee house cork board that was covered in various flyers. One caught her eye and she stood up to get a closer look at it. It was on official city letterhead, typed up in the boring bureaucratic font and spacing that actually made it stand out more against the cacophony of “party” fonts and bright colored papers. “Hey,” she called out the cashier, “when did the country get put under  _martial law_ ? What happened?”

The young woman gave a snort and asked, “What, have you been living under a rock for the past couple of years?”

Zoe narrowed her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. “Actually, I was kidnapped and kept underground, so  _yeah_ , I’ve been under a rock for the past two years.”

The cashier started and flushed in embarrassment, glancing over at Loki then back to Zoe. Her desire to find her own rock to crawl under was palpable and she stammered, “Uh, ‘bout a year and a half ago, when all the Iron Suits started showing up everywhere. After the plans for them got leaked. LA blew up and the president declared martial law. Curfew’s been moved back to nine since last month.”

Loki sat at the table, uninterested in the current mortal crisis, and tasted his now mixed drink. Finding it palatable, he then took her cup and added some more of her drink to his.  “I just wish she would hurry up,” he sighed in annoyance. “I grow weary of waiting for her.”

Zoe stepped away from the community board and the newest tidbit of insanity in the world and sat back down. Her mind was still mulling it over, but there were better people than random cashiers and aliens to ask about it later. “She who? Who are we waiting for?”

Loki smiled and Zoe mentally braced herself; she’d already learned that he was in full-on mischief mode when he grinned like that.  “Guess.”  This mortal riled so easily and it was terribly amusing to watch her try to keep up.

“Y’know, the list of people we  _both_ know is like seven people long, and there’s only two women on it.” She gave him a deadpan stare and finished her drink before he could steal more of it. “Well, I guess three, if the scary Sif lady counts, but I’m pretty sure she’s still on another planet right now.”

“You’re not even trying to amuse me,” he pouted.  In truth, he was having more fun than he could remember having in a while.

She arched a brow at him. “Oh? Is that my new mission in life? Amuse the Loki?” She put a thoughtful finger to her lip and offered with pat sincerity, “I could try tickling you.  _Someone_ would get a laugh out of that.”

He stared at her for a second before smiling.  She’d thought that his smile before was sexy; he hadn’t been  _trying_ then.  Now he turned the full force of his personality against her.  “You could  _try_ to tickle me, I suppose.  No one has attempted such a thing… ever.” 

He pushed his chair back and slouched slightly, turning into a reclining prince waiting for her to… do something.  He was curious if she’d even  _try_ .  He suspected she wouldn’t follow through on her threat.The girl did so easily turn amusing shades of pink and red. Loki waited, his green eyes on her, not moving. 

_Note to self: do not bluff the alien prince. He will call you on it. Awkwardly. In public._ She leaned back in the chair, giving him a thorough once-over.  _Ah, hell. Fuck it. I’ve been locked up for two years. I deserve some fun._ “Not through leather armor, that’s just a guarantee to fail.” Her grin was innocently sweet, but still managed to convey the challenge,  _Well, are you going to strip in a Starbucks just to see if I’ll actually tickle you or not? You know, I think I win either way on this._

The armor disappeared in a blaze of golden light, leaving a much simpler green shirt underneath.  Loki’s smirk widened.  He didn’t remove his armor of course but  _she_ couldn’t see that.  He was amused that she could see through his illusions but only when controlled by the staff.   _I wonder what causes that oddity._

_Do. Not. Bluff. The. Alien. Prince._ She was perfectly scarlet at this point and chuckled nervously. A glance around the room showed that none of the other patrons seemed to have noticed the abrupt wardrobe shift. She wasn’t sure if Loki had some trick up his sleeve for that or if they were just being New Yorkers.

She debated for a moment, her eyes on him, but that smirk was a challenge. She set her empty cup down on the table and stood up. “Alright, then. I claim no responsibility if embarrassing tweets, pictures, or videos end on the ‘net.  _You’re_ the one that’s bored, remember.”

She gave him one more beat to be the one to blink first.

Neither of them blinked.  Instead, the door opened and Verun entered, looking past and through them.  “I know you are here, Loki,” she said firmly.

_At least she can’t see through my illusions._ “Later,” the prince told Zoe, then rose smoothly to face his newfound twin.  “You are late.”

“I was delayed when one of those rolling metal boxes hit me.”  Verun looked annoyed as she glanced down on a dirty smear on her skirt.  “The rider was quite loud  _and_ rude.”

“You got hit by a car?" Zoe asked in alarm. "Are you okay?” 

The Vanir scoffed.  “It hurt a little but the rider had urged the machine to insufficient speeds to actually cause me damage.” 

Zoe scrubbed at her face. Between Verun unflappable demeanor and Loki’s….Lokiness, she was going to go bonkers.  _Huh, short trip_ . “Well, that’s good. Let’s try to avoid traffic collisions in the future, though, m’kay?”

“If we can.” Verun said sourly.  “They move quite _fast_.”

“Yeah, there’s a trick to it.”  On the walk back to the tower, Zoe taught them how to use crosswalks and the lights to safely pass.  It was still nerve-wracking to note how the offworlders disregarded the laws of right-of-way; sometimes it was hard to tell if Loki really didn't understand or if he was toying with her.

Still a little flustered from earlier, she finally huffed at him, “If you get rolled over by New York rush hour, I’m just gonna stand here and laugh. I might  _clap_ .”

“I will attack any mortal disrespectful enough to  _roll_ over me.”  Loki’s words were hard and bitter. 

“Relax.”  Verun had been studying the buildings as they passed; unlike many out of town visitors, she didn’t seem impressed.  “Your stay here will only be more tedious if you fight against the denizens of this realm.”

Zoe snorted. “You’re both assuming anyone would bother to stop. And that there’d only be one of them.”

“The man who hit me stopped and complained about his car.”  She pointed and further up the block, Zoe could see a tow truck loading up a black SUV, its front bearing a sharp U - a U that was roughly the size of Verun’s hip.

Zoe grabbed the elbows of both aliens and steered them firmly away from the tow-truck and the irate SUV owner. “Let’s not give him a chance to recognize you. I don’t think cops trying to arrest you is a good idea for anyone. Especially the cops.”

“What are cops?” Verun asked curiously and Zoe hid a groan, wondering when it had become _her_ job to babysit and educate half-giant aliens in the busy streets of New York.


	16. Suicide Mission

The wake after the funeral had a very different tone. The somber room they’d held the brief ceremony in was transformed by bright lights, food, drink, and some of Steve’s favorite music. What had felt like a church now felt like a party. Thor quickly took charge of the gathering, walking to the front of the room and seizing a glass. Turning back to face the mourners, he bellowed, “To Steve! Hail the fallen warrior!” Tipping his head back, he threw the contents of the shot glass down his throat.

“To Steve!” Jane joined him, holding up a glass of red wine. “To the time he saved New York City!”

That broke the spell over the room, and soon people were telling stories about Steve. Bucky had plenty to share but the words stuck in his throat. He took drinks when they were offered to him, he lifted his glass and took swigs, but he couldn’t tell him about the time pre-serum Steve had fallen through the floor of the old mill and had to find a way to climb out. There was the time he’d rescued Bucky in France, saving him from certain death - again. Bucky had dozens of stories about his friend but he couldn’t tell one of them.

Instead, he found a corner to hide in, nursing a drink. The shield had finally been taken from him, and was resting on an easel at the front of the room. No one tried to talk to him or speak to him; they all avoided him. Bucky didn’t mind; soon it wouldn’t matter anyway.

He thought about slipping away and finding a dark crevice but the memory of green eyes and a sad smile stopped him. He’d promised Verun that he’d wait a day, and so he would. It was only until tomorrow morning. _She’d never know the difference_ , his depression argued with him. _She **left** you here and went home. She’ll never know._

Bucky rubbed his face. He’d know. He didn’t have much pride left but he could face his demons long enough to keep a promise to a pretty lady. _Not just any pretty lady. One who seemed determined to accept me and wanted me to accept myself._ He’d never had a woman stand up for him like that. _Like Steve would have_.

His senses told him that someone was sitting down next to him and he snapped his eyes open, his metal fist curling shut defensively. Bucky wasn’t sure why he’d bothered reacting defensively; he planned on dying tomorrow.

Natasha didn’t give him time to ponder his survival instinct; she immediately handed him a sleeping baby. “Here, hold him a second.”

“I-!” Bucky had just enough time to curl his arms into the appropriate shape before Natasha placed the kid into them. She deftly plucked his glass out of his hand, smiling when he curled powerful metal fingers around James’ head.

“See, it’s fine.” She took a drink of his beer, wincing at the taste. “Once he’s asleep, he’s out.”

Bucky studied the small form. James felt so frail in his arms, particularly where he rested against his metal arm. The surge of protectiveness that filled him was startling; the fear that followed the protection was not. In a second, Bucky understood the sudden change in feelings: this was a physical piece of Steve, left behind on the earth. His fingers stroked the fine hair growing out of his tiny head. It was a reddish blond, the perfect middle ground between Natasha and Steve. The nose though - that was a nose Bucky had known since he was six.

“You gonna be around long enough for him to remember you?” Natasha asked the question like she shot a gun: to do the most damage possible. Bucky couldn’t hide his flinch. “I overheard your conversation with Veruh.”

“Verun.” His correction was instinctive and immediate.

Natasha ignored his interruption. “It wasn’t hard to figure out what she meant. I was just too busy with other things to address it.”

“Aren’t you still busy?” he asked, looking up to find her green eyes locked on him.

“I am, with you. Steve wouldn’t want you to kill yourself just because he died.” Natasha smiled sadly as James cooed in his sleep and kicked a couple of times. “He used to talk about finding you and training you, so that you could be Captain America for him, and he could stay here with James more.”

“Me?” Bucky swallowed hard at the impossible thought that Steve would still trust him that much. “I can’t . . . I don’t . . .”

“It’s not up to you.” Natasha shrugged. “That’s what he thought about you. You can’t control when other people love and value you.”

“But I don’t deserve it!” His angry hiss caused James to open his eyes for a second, and Natasha gave Bucky an annoyed frown.

“You know what, Barnes? _None_ of us, except Steve, deserve to be heroes.” Natasha glared at him but didn’t take back the four-month old baby. “But we are. We are because the world needs us. It needs Steve but all it has is _us_. Specifically, you.” He shook his head but she insisted, “This isn’t about what you _want_ , not anymore. This is about what you _need_ to do. Not for yourself. Not for the world. For Steve. He’d want you to be the next Captain.” 

Bucky stood up and carefully transferred the baby back to Natasha. She read his face and knew what he was going to say; her face was already twisted with irritation when he said, “You have the wrong man for heroship, ma’am.” Reclaiming his glass, he wandered away to find his solace.

 

* * *

 

Emma stepped up to the bar after excusing herself from another inquisitive member of Sanctuary, and caught the gaze of the somber-looking bartender.  He nodded to her, indicating he’d be with her in a moment, and she nodded back before leaning against the bar, looking tired. 

She shouldn’t be here.  She’d been at the funeral, as overwhelming as it was.  Everyone had been there - everyone wanted to pay their respects to Captain America.  She’d sat next to Tony for support because he needed it, up front with those closest to Steve even though it felt awkward - Natasha and her tiny son James, Bucky and Clint, Jane Foster, and the only other person there other than Stark that she knew well, Phil Coulson.  She’d known Steve, been friends with Steve.  But not like these people had.  They were his family, she hadn’t been to hell and back with him like they had, hadn’t fought at his side except for this one, ill-fated time.  It made her think of the memorial she hadn’t been able to attend, the service for her crewmembers.  She’d been too far gone, locked up in Stark's laboratories, fighting for control of the alien technology buried in her blood.  He’d taken her to the monument later, but it hadn’t felt real.  It was nothing more than carved stone.

There had been hundreds more there for this service, and at least half of them seemed to be at the reception.  Natasha was there, sitting off to the side with James, staring quietly into space even as she murmured automatic soothing sounds to the fussy child.  Her deadened expression dared strangers to come near her, murmuring useless platitudes.  No one did.  Bucky was given a wide berth, people were afraid to approach and he seemed to prefer it that way.  She hadn’t seen Clint or Tony in a little while, but she assumed they were around here somewhere.  Whether people were bothering them as much as her, she didn’t know. 

But of course no one knew her here, that probably made her an easier target for information seekers.  They knew of her, knew her story.  Everyone had heard of the former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that Tony Stark had managed to recruit into his off-world exploratory program, the only survivor of the doomed alien attack against the _Salvation_ and it’s crew.  But since Iron Man had rescued her, stopping the swath of destruction and chaos the nanites were using her to inflict upon the world, no one had seen her outside of Avenger Tower.  And now here she was, showing up with the Avengers, and Captain America’s dead body. 

Some were merely inquisitive;  they wanted to know what happened.  They wanted details.  They were afraid, knowing there was something out there capable of killing their heroes.  They wanted to know what she was doing here, if Stark was moving to sanctuary now.  They wanted to know about Von Strucker.  The only ones that didn’t approach were the ones who avoided her the way they avoided Bucky, which hurt in it’s own way too.  It dawned on her that she should try and talk to him.  She understood, possibly better than anyone else could, what it felt like to be manipulated.  Forced to do things that were against your will, or outside of your nature.  To be used as a weapon.

“Miss, did you want something?” the waiter asked, causing her to jump in surprise. 

“Yes . . . yes, I’m sorry.  Another whiskey please,” she responded, handing him her empty glass. 

“On the rocks, miss?”  The bartender took the glass from Emma, even as she shook her head. 

“No . . . neat is fine, thank you.”  He poured the drink and offered it.  She took it with a nod, and stepped away from the bar as she took a small sip.  It was her third one - more than she usually drank, and she was starting to feel it.  But she'd never done well at funeral receptions, not since her father's death, so if it helped her get through this one she’d be grateful.

“Emma!”  A hand clamped on her shoulder and she nearly ended up wearing the rest of her whiskey.  Clint’s hand closed over her wrist with his lightning reflexes and steadied the shot glass.  “There you are!  Come with me.”

“Wait, what?” She had just enough time to yelp that before Hawkeye was steering her toward the nearest door.

“I need you to calm Stark down.  He’s tearing up part of the Avengers’ Place, and I need you talk him down.”  He spoke softly but urgently as he hurried her out the door.

"Wait - Clint, wait!"  She allowed herself to be led outside of the reception, but then dug her heels in, stopping the archer's forward momentum.  "What happened?  Why is he tearing the place up?"

The archer’s expression shifted to something mildly sheepish.  “I or someone close to me may or may not have pissed him off.”

Emma sighed and rubbed her forehead.  “What did you say?”

“I didn’t say it was me.  I said that it was me _or_ someone close to me.”  Clint cleared his throat.  “What may or may not have been said was that he needed to quit drinking so much.”

"Peachy.  I assume he told you to fuck off, that's what he usually tells people who try to tell him what he doesn't care to hear these days.  I don't see it setting him off, though . . . what else did you say?"  She arched a brow at him as he started to protest, her expression reprimanding.  "Barton, what else did you do?"

“I didn’t say it was me!” Clint spread his hands wide in protest of his innocence.  “I or _someone near me_ may or _may not_ have told Stark that Pepper would have cut him off three bottles ago.”

Emma paled, her eyes widening in horror.  "You _didn't._   Clint!  Oh my god . . ."  She drew in a deep breath, and ran a hand down the side of her face. "Well done.  Very sensitive.  Would you like to go rub Steve's death in Natasha's face a little too, while you're at it?"

Clint went from sheepish to pissed in a second. “That is _not_ the same thing!”

“Yes, it is-”

“Steve died _today_!  Pepper’s been dead a _year_!”  Clint spat the words in a fury.  “It is _not_ the same!”  He sliced his hand through the air sharply, cutting off her next remark.  “Look, will you just _fix_ Stark?  Stop him from blowing up Sanctuary.”

She glared at him, her face full of hot fury.  "Yeah, my bad, Barton.  A whole year. He should _totally_ be over that shit by now."  He let out an exasperated sound, and her expression crumpled a little.  "I don't know why you think I have any influence over him!  I don't!  The only one who did anymore was Steve, don't you _see_ that?  Maybe you don't.  You're here, and he's not, so maybe you don't see it like I do, Clint.  He hasn't been the same since Pepper died, he doesn't let anyone close anymore.  Maybe he thought it was safe to be friends with Steve, we all thought he was so damned indestructible!  Maybe that's the only reason Tony risked it.  That's why he's like this now, can't you tell?  But I don't know how to make him listen.  I don't know why you think I can."

“Because he _does_ listen to you. You’re maybe the last person on Earth that can get common sense through his damn, entitled, swollen head!”  Clint grabbed her by the shoulders.  “Remember when you nagged him about cleaning the lab - and he did?  He _never_ cleans his lab.  But he straightened and organized it because you asked him to!”

“Asked him to?  I told him that if he wanted to stick me with one more needle, or draw another drop of my nanite-infused blood, he’d clean it.”  Her lips twitched slightly in amusement.  “When that didn’t work, I threatened to permanently adhere that metal suit of his to the ceiling, with him still in it.”

“Great!  Sounds like you know how to talk to him.”  Clint gave her a little push.  “Go, do that thing you do.”

She arched a brow at him, even as she started to walk backwards towards the Avengers’ building.  “That’s manipulation, not talking, Clint.” 

“Sweetheart, where I come from, that’s halfway to a wedding ring.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Just stop him from breaking my city, okay?  Can you do that much for all the soon-to-be orphans of Sanctuary?  The ones that will happen if you _don’t_ manipulate him into behaving.”

“I’ll do my best, Clint.”  Her voice turned wry.  “This had better earn me some Avengers cred though, since the second mission I’m getting sent on is a possible suicide run.”  With that, she turned and walked away, towards the building and a furious Tony Stark.

She realized once she got there that she hadn’t asked Hawkeye where to find the drunken billionaire.  But she didn’t have to, really . . . once she opened the door, all she had to do was follow the sound of crashing glass to the well-furnished living room.  She hesitated at the open doorway, taking a good look around at the destruction.  There was broken glass all over the place where the bottles had impacted against the walls.  She saw a painting hanging crooked over the sofa, alcohol dripping from the corner of the frame and leaking down between the leather cushions.  Though she’d caught him during an apparent breather, she was a bit concerned by the fact that there weren’t many bottles left behind the bar, since she wasn’t sure what he’d move on to once he finished destroying the liquor cabinet. 

“Tony?”  Her voice was soft, and a bit hesitant.

“Did you know, Emma, that I _drink_ too much?”  Tony rose from behind the bar, a bottle of hundred-year-old scotch in his hand.  This bottle he was thankfully drinking instead of throwing.

“Talk about a loaded question.”  She smiled at him, a little wryly. 

“Hawdeye said it, it mush be true, right?”  Emma had _never_ heard Tony slur or confuse his words, even a little.  “ _Right_?”

She studied him for a moment, not saying anything.  Then she did what most people were afraid to do to someone on a bender.  She walked up to him, leaning on the bar across from him.  “I think you drink because you’re in pain.  And you’re in a lot of pain right now.”  She realized she was still holding the glass from the reception, and after a moment she reached over the bar and dumped it out in the sink.  Then she held out her glass towards him.  “Does it work?  Cause hell, if it works I guess I’ll take a glass.  They’re serving ten year old swill at the reception, and hanging out with you has honed my taste in liquor.”

“I’m a . . . whatdoyacallit?  Ah . . . I degrade you.  Morally.”  He poured her a glass with a hand that was steady enough not to spill a drop.  “Morally prehensile of me.”

“You’re no more of a bad influence than I allow you to be, Tony.”  She took a drink of the scotch, savored the smooth burn as she swallowed it.  Then she sat it down on the bar.  “Clint’s just worried about you, Tony.  Even if he’s a jackass about it.”

“No, no, no.”  Tony shook his finger at her, his blitzed expression becoming a scowl.  “Don’t defend him.  He _knows_.  And I was the bigger man.  I would have talked about how the way is clear for him to try with Natasha again.”  Tony smirked.  “Did you know that?  Steve beat Clint out of her heart, not that anyone thought there’d be another outcome.”

“Steve earned Natasha’s heart, he didn’t have to beat Clint.  He was a good man.  And Clint’s kind of a dick, really.”  Dangerous ground, but he’d brought it up. 

“Do you like him?”  Tony took another drink of booze, easing around the bar.  “You seem the type to like assholes.”

“Gee, thanks.”  She rolled her eyes, and took another drink.  “You know how to flatter a girl, Stark.  No, I don’t like Clint.  Not like that.  He’s… so serious.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him laugh at anything.”

“Fhury bead it out of him _years_ ago.”  Tony poured more scotch into her glass, studying her.  “He is an asshole, and you didn’t answer my question.  Do you like assholes?”  He hadn’t asked that question but Emma guessed it was the one he really wanted answered.

“I suppose I’ve got a soft spot for them.  My Dad was kind of an asshole sometimes, but an amusing one.  You didn’t answer my question, either.”  She held up the glass, and took another drink.  “Does this help, Tony?  I know you’re trying to dull the pain, but it doesn’t look like it’s working to me.  I think it’s making it worse.  You joke, and insult, but I can see it in your eyes.  I think you need to find another way.”

“Oh my god!” Tony moaned, hanging his head.  “I can’t fucking believe you’re pulling this on me!”

“What, you mean you can’t believe I give a shit?  Well, I’ve got news.  I do give a shit.  This sucks, Tony.  It fucking sucks.”  She drained her glass, and sat it down on the bar with a slam. “And if you want to drink yourself into oblivion, do it.  I’m not gonna stop you.  But you saved my life, Stark.  More than that, you stopped me.  You kept me from becoming nothing more than a weapon, to be used.  You have no idea what that means to me.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have.”  Tony swayed slightly as he ground the heel of his palm against his eye.  “It’s not getting better, Em.  The world is gettin’ worse.”

“I know that.”  She reached forward, and touched his opposite cheek gently with her fingertips.  “I know it is.  But that doesn’t mean it’s lost.  It might not get better, Tony, I don’t know.  No one knows.  But if we don’t try, it definitely won’t.  This shit isn’t over yet, so you can’t give up on me, okay?  We need you.”

“No!  We needed Steve.”  Tony spun and threw the bottle, still quarter-full of scotch.  Emma winced, from the mess, the loss of the expensive drink, and Tony’s words.  “We needed him, and Strucker took that away.”  He turned to her and his expression was lost and hopeless.  Helpless, even.  “I can’t . . . I don’t see how it gets better, Em.  The Iron Suits . . . Bruce and Steve . . . Pep-” His voice choked and he swayed again, almost falling.

She reached out and steadied him, one hand on his arm, the other on his chest.  “I know, Tony.  I know.  It sucks, it fucking sucks.  And I don’t know if we can make it better, but I _know_ we can’t tonight.  Maybe we can try tomorrow, but tonight . . . tonight you buried your best friend.  You’re carrying so much, Tony.  Just set it down for tonight, okay?”  She rested her forehead against his gently, and reached up, resting her hand against his cheek softly, soothingly.  “Just for tonight.”

He blinked a few times, his brown eyes dazed and lost.  That’s what hurt the most - the loss of his confidence.  Tony Stark wasn’t always right, but he was always sure he was.  He sighed and the tension leaked from him, almost like water cascading down his skin to the floor.  “Okay,” he muttered, his hands sliding up her arms and her shoulders to her neck, burying themselves in her hair.  Tony tilted her head up and slightly to the side as he kissed her, flooding her senses with heat and the taste of his whiskey. 


	17. On The Rocks

Tony lost himself in the sensation of kissing her: he’d not really been with anyone in years.  Yes, he’d had a fling or two but they’d been about physical pleasure not this easy connection to another person.  Even half out of his mind with drink, his body knew what to do: his lips and tongue worked in concert to tease and stimulate her mouth.  He’d thought about doing this to Emma before but they’d been small, quick thoughts he’d quickly dismissed.  Now he pressed his body into hers, backing her to a wall and pinning her there.

She drew in a surprised breath as his lips met hers.  At first she just let him kiss her, too surprised to really even return the gesture.  She felt herself moving, felt her back press against the wall, but mostly she felt her heart pounding in her ears.  Unlike Tony, she’d pictured this dozens of times.  But like Tony, she’d dismissed them just as quickly.  He was her - well, not her boss, precisely - but someone she’d always considered out of reach.  It was stupid to let yourself fantasize about someone that half a million women desired, and by the time she got to really know him, he’d given them all up for Pepper anyway.

After a moment, her hand moved up from his cheek, burying itself in his hair, and she began to kiss him back, her head tilting a bit more and her tongue stroking softly across his as her fingers tightened their grip.  The hand that had been there to steady him moved down his chest, and gently caught hold of the fabric of his shirt.

Tony’s hands curled around her wrists and freed his hair and shirt.  He pushed her hands up over her head, pinning her to the wall.  He kissed his way down her cheek to bury his face in her neck.  His lips burned with heat against her cooler skin, right before he lightly nipped her, drawing a soft gasp from her lips. 

The billionaire kissed his way across her cleavage to the other side of her neck and up again, his teeth grazing her earlobe before moving back to her mouth.  “God, I should have done this  _months_ ago,” he muttered, lifting his head.  His brown eyes were still dazed as he looked at her but his movements were sure as he nipped her lower lip lightly.

“I’m not sure I could’ve been trusted to feel like this months ago,” she murmured in reply, her voice trembling.  The nanites had rendered her emotionally volatile, at first.  She’d fought hard to regain some semblance of control, and now she realized she’d been avoiding any particularly strong emotions out of reflex.  Her lips tried to brush across his in a kiss, but he caught her lower lip again, his teeth nipping a little harder this time.  A small groan slipped from her throat, and she pulled away just enough to nip back in return.  He could feel her squirming slightly against him in response to being pinned.

“Months ago?” he asked, his voice confused.  Hesitantly, he straightened and stood more or less straight.  “I’m . . . I shouldn’t . . . Emma.”  His hands rested on his head as he swayed slightly.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine - Tony, I’m fine.  I . . .”  She took a deep breath to steady herself.  There was something in the back of her mind, whispering that this was a bad idea.  But she barely noticed it over the feeling of loss as he pulled away from her.  Her warm, amber-colored eyes caught his, and she stepped forward, closer to him.  “Does it help?” she whispered, echoing her earlier question as she rested a hand gently on his chest. 

“I think so.  It’s a little hard to think over the scent of your perfume.”  He gave her the smile that had charmed women around the world and he was a little unsteady as he stepped a little closer.  For a drunk man, he moved fairly quickly, scooping her up in his arms.  Emma let out a little yelp - it was hard not to, being picked up like this by someone she  _knew_ was plastered.  Not to mention that she’d had enough to set the room spinning a bit, anyway.  Most men would have been falling over but Tony headed for the bedroom with only a slight difficulty.

She didn’t make it easy on him, either.  She was holding on tight, but after a few moments he felt her lips nuzzle against his skin, moving lazily over the side of his neck and up to his earlobe.  She nipped softly, and then traced it slowly with her tongue.  He had just backed into the bedroom when she found one of his weak spots - a small area just under his earlobe - and began to circle it with the tip of her tongue, causing him to groan. 

He made it to the bed, dumping it on her in a manner that suggested that he hadn’t been balancing as much letting forward momentum drag him forward.  That didn’t matter a moment later when he pushed himself back up and started to strip off his jacket.  Tony’s pupils were dilated with lust as he gazed down at her and wrestled the coat off, then tackled his shirt buttons.  “A little help?” he muttered.  “You’ve had less to drink and these buttons hate me.”

She sat up from the bed, staring up at him.  Her cheeks were flushed, visible even with her dusky-colored skin, and as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips he noticed they were already a little swollen from kissing.  She reached up and brushed his hands away, and then began unfastening his shirt with mostly-steady fingers.  She tried to tug it out from his suit pants, but after a moment of fumbling with it, her fingertips moved down to his belt instead and began unfastening the slim, designer buckle. 

Tony refused to help her; he instead started to kiss her again, distracting her and blocking her vision.  He started to tug at her dress though not with any real effort to remove it.  He seemed to be distracting himself as much as her.

She’d forgotten to breathe, she realized, as she finally pulled back from the kiss with a gasp.  She felt dizzy, though she had no clue whether it was from booze or desire.  Her eyes fluttered shut so she could block out the vague feeling of vertigo, and when she felt Tony’s lips on her jaw her head tilted back, exposing the smooth skin of her throat, even as she continued to fumble with the belt.  Finally she succeeded in unfastening it, and he felt a jolt of pleasure as her fingertips brushed against his stomach, slipping into the waistband of his pants, searching out the buttons normally concealed beneath the belt.

“I need pants with Velcro seams,” he growled, pulling the belt out of their loops in one smooth maneuver. 

“I can handle a couple buttons,” she murmured in reply, even as she found them and unfastened them.  Her fingertips caught the zipper of his pants and handled that too, before finally tugging the rest of his shirt out of his waistband.  She managed the last couple of buttons keeping his shirt closed, and then pushed it open to reveal his chest.  Her fingertips brushed lightly over the scar in the center of his chest where the arc reactor used to be, but then moved down over his stomach, tracing the shape of his abs softly with an appreciative hum.

“No, no. I mean pants that I can rip off my body in one smooth, masculine maneuver that will instantly wet your panties.”  Tony grinned crookedly.

“Oh yeah, cause nothing says sexy like velcro,” she replied, sounding drunkenly amused.

“Oh, I can make it sexy.”  His words were promise and threat, all in one.  Slipping his hands behind her head, he pulled her down for another kiss.  “I’ll get you to the point where  _scrhhhhtch!_ is the sexiest sound you’ll ever hear.”

She kissed him back firmly, then broke away with a small laugh as the mental image replayed itself in her mind.  Her hand pressed firmly against his chest and she shoved him onto his back, something she probably wouldn’t have been able to pull off if he’d been sober.  She straddled his hips, leaned down, and began trailing kisses across his chest.  Her auburn hair tumbled down and brushed, whisper-soft, against his skin.  “All I can say is that if you’re even considering velcro as an acceptable fashion option, you’re even drunker than I thought.”

“Only in the bedroom.”  He bucked his legs up and tipped her forward onto his chest.  Emma wasn’t exactly prepared for the move and found herself pressed into his skin nose-first.  By the time she’d gotten her own slightly drunk limbs sorted out, Tony had the back of her dress open.  His fingers traced up and down the lines of her back, feeling toned muscles that he’d watched her build - at his insistence.  He tugged the wide shoulder straps of her garment down her shoulders, his eyes locked on the bra revealed by the dress’ removal.

Her eyes studied his face, taking in the hunger in his expression. She was running mostly on instinct and desire at this point, but the rational part of her mind whispered that this was distracting Stark from his grief quite effectively, and she should probably capitalize on it. She reached up and slid her straps the rest of the way off, shrugging it down sensually until it pooled at her waist. Then she reached up behind her back and began slowly unfastening the hooks of the black lace bra, still staring at him with a heat-filled amber gaze.

He’d never been a man known for his patience and his fingers hooked under the underwire of her bra, waiting for her to finish with the hooks.  She gave him a wry smirk but continued to unhook the catches, taking her sweet time.  The second they were undone, Tony had the straps down her arms and the cups off her breasts.  The man was a master at disrobing a woman.

Tossing the bra aside, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around her breasts.  His thumb and fingertips pinched and rolled her nipples, gently stimulating the sensitive nubs.  Then he hooked an arm around her back and pulled her close enough to slip them into his mouth.  His tongue, teeth, and lips worked in unison to explore and pleasure her skin.

She moaned in response, leaning into it, reveling in the sensation. It had been a long time since she’d been with anyone - a  _very_ long time, now that she considered the matter - and her last lover hadn’t been nearly this skilled.  _Not even stone sober. Now that’s a disarming thought._

His explorations drove away any further thought about the matter, however; not only was his mouth playing havoc on her breasts, she could feel his hands moving down, seeking out smooth, bare skin. They moved down her sides, then dropped further and began pushing her skirt up, exposing her thighs. His fingers slid across her toned flesh, until they brushed over her hip bones - one of  _her_ sensitive spots. She let out a whimper and gasped his name, and he felt her hips rock against his involuntarily. 

“Now, now.”  His voice was chiding and playful.  “Not too fast.  We have all night.”  His fingers lingered on her hip bones, playing with the nerves like a master violinist played a bow across strings.  He moved on only when she thought she might go mad if he touched her there for another second.  His hands caught her dress as he lifted them, removing the garment completely.  Dumping it on the floor, he began to trace the patterns in her lacy underwear with a gaze that promised,  _Just wait.  It gets even better.  Just let me get these off and I’ll show you._

They stayed like that for a moment, eyes locked. The only noise in the room was the mingling sound of their breaths, both quick and a bit unsteady despite Tony’s smooth words. “Sit up,” she murmured, sliding back along his thighs just enough to allow him the leverage.  He lifted himself up off the bed at the waist, his hands gripping her hips and pulling her closer as he did.  She drew in a sharp breath, and slid her hands up to his shoulders. She pushed the shirt off of him completely, and with a flick of her wrist it joined the dress in a puddle on the floor.  She moved her hands over his biceps, her neatly manicured nails raking lightly across his skin in an attempt to draw the same strength of reaction from him as he was pulling from her. 

It was working: Tony made a wordless noise of pleasure.  He caught her wrists, kissing first one and then nipping the other.  Leaning in, he licked and sucked her nipples again, one after the other.  Tony Stark had a clear oral fixation and when he gave Emma a heated upward glance, she couldn’t help but wonder if his tendencies would carry to other parts of her body.

Curling his arms around her, he lifted and turned, putting her on her back on the bed.  His lips skirted under her breasts and started to make a criss-crossed trail down her body.  It wasn’t that Tony was a mind reader: he just knew what women loved and his years of playboy habits had taught him well.  Emma released a strained groan as he kissed his way lower and lower on her body, his pants-clad ass rising higher and higher into the air.

She felt his hands skim over her legs, up to her hips again. He hooked his fingers under the delicate lace panties, then lifted her hips and slid them down in one impatient movement. His hands parted her thighs, and then she felt his tongue between them and the room began to spin. 

She was wonderfully responsive, squirming and arching beneath him. They'd both left their inhibitions back amongst the roomful of broken bottles and scotch-soaked decor, and she moaned and gasped as he pleasured her, his tongue stroking and flicking intently. Her legs slid up, hooking over his shoulders as her hips rose up towards him.  He forced them back down to the bed, his fingertips pressing firmly into her hips as he drove her closer to oblivion with his mouth. 

"Tony. Oh please - oh god. Yessss . . . " she hissed, before drawing in a sharp breath. On the nightstand some loose coins began to rattle against the small dish that contained them.

“You.” His teeth lightly scored her right labia, just enough to be sensation, not pain.  “Need.”  Her right labia was next.  “To,” was scored by a lick that ran the length of her slit.  “Exercise.”  Tony paused to flick her clit for several seconds.  “Control!”  As he growled that word, he slid a finger into her and redoubled his efforts with his mouth.

She cried out in surprise and pleasure, and he heard the coins scatter across the nightstand and clatter to the floor. He could feel her muscles tighten around his finger and her heels press into his back as she arched up again, tension drawing her body like a tightly strung bow.  He continued thrusting, rubbing his finger inside of her firmly as his tongue sought out her clit, flickering over it eagerly until finally she came, for what she suspected wouldn’t be the last time that night. 

He felt her tighten and then spasm around his fingers; she moaned his name, her voice thick and low, full of desire and satisfaction all rolled into one. It was an intoxicating sound, with just a hint of an accent that she normally kept concealed, and it caused his own body to throb and harden in response.

Tony wiped his lips off, his expression pleased.  “That is how you start off a night of debauchery,” he added with a grin.  He turned his head toward her thigh and kissed and nibbled his way up toward her knee.  He sat up in the process of shifting her leg off his shoulder and moved on to her calf.  His erection was clear in the folds of his pants as he curled his legs on the bed with surprising flexibility, watching Emma melt into the bed.  “Let me know when you recover the power of speech.”

"Mmm," she murmured, obviously not quite there yet. She lingered in that blissful state for a few moments, enjoying the feel of his lips and teeth trailing their way across her skin. Finally she sat up, meeting his gaze again.

"Recovered yet?" he murmured playfully, his hands still caressing her calf slowly.

"I suppose so," she responded, her lips twitching up at the corner in a wry smile.  "How is it you're still half-dressed, and I'm completely naked?  Something about that seems grossly unfair."

Tony smirked. “The world does have a known gender imbalance.”  He got up off the bed and strolled to the bar set against the wall, pouring himself a shot of scotch.  Glancing back at her, he sipped the glass and challenged, “What are you going to do about it?”


	18. Worthy Goals

She arched an eyebrow, and her smirk curved into something a little more predatory. "I'm sure I can think of something," she replied as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.  Suddenly, he felt himself jerked forward a step, as if someone had grabbed the front of his pants, and pulled him towards her. It took him a moment to realize that she had manipulated the metal of his zipper, forcing him to take a step towards her. Even as he realized it she did it again, slowly standing as up as he was pulled another step in her direction.

She met him in the middle, reaching up to take the glass from his hand.  She took a slow sip from it before handing it back to him, then she pressed up against him, her hands sliding around his waist and slowly down beneath his waistband. Her hands slid down over his ass, one hand on each cheek, caressing it firmly through the fabric of his boxer-briefs.  Then she moved her hands back up and caught at his waistband, tugging the article of clothing down and letting the pants drop to the floor. 

Tony had expected her to pretty much do that, and he was grinning drunkenly as he stepped out of the pants. He drained the glass and dropped it onto the floor into the puddle of his pants. 

“Now what?” he murmured, walking gently forward. Emma had to back up or be smashed against his body. Both were intriguing options but she allowed him to guide her backwards to the bed. “You ready to further seduce me?” His playful smirk turned the accusation into another part of their sexy, sexy game, right as her knees bumped against the bed.

Her hand slid up his chest again, fingers splayed as she ran her nails over his skin.  “Oh, is that what’s happening?  I seem to recall you kissing me first.”

“I think I recall backing off,” he replied, the mischievous smirk on his face turning into a wicked grin. 

“Oh, well.  In that case, then.”  She leaned up and kissed him again, her tongue swirling with his.  She moved her hands to his waist and slid down his underwear, letting it drop to the ground as well. She slid her left hand back up his chest as they kissed, running her nails over him, letting them rake across his skin a little firmer this time. Her right hand was at her side, and as discreetly as possible she gestured with it.  Across the room, a metal and leather chair sat near a small desk.  She pulled with her powers, and sure enough, the chair shifted towards them slowly, wheeling silently across the carpeted floor. She nipped playfully at his lower lip and then pulled back from the kiss, even as she shoved firmly against him with her hand.  As he felt the shove, he also felt the back of the chair hit his calves firmly, unbalancing him just enough to cause him to stumble back into the chair that was now directly behind him. 

She smirked at him as the chair jerked a couple feet back, and her eyes raked over him eagerly, resting on his erection for a few lingering moments. “Feeling seduced yet, Stark?”

“I’m feeling naked and manhandled but since I’m the one who helped teach you how to put me in this position, I’m not complaining.”  He leaned back and put his hands behind his head.  “What are your dastardly plans for me?”  As if to punctuate his question, his cock twitched eagerly.

“I  _plan_ to wipe that arrogant smirk off your face,” she replied, eyes narrowing. She stepped closer, leaning over him and murmuring softly in his ear. “If it’s the last thing I do.” She ran her hands over his chest and began to trail kisses down his neck. He felt her knee slide very carefully between his legs, resting on the small section of exposed chair. And then he felt her hand slowly wrap around him and begin to stroke, firmly and patiently. 

“I think that is a worthy goal.”  Tony managed to speak though it was clearly difficult for him.  His eyes fluttered lightly as they rolled up toward the ceiling and he unhooked his hands from his head.  They began to roam over her body, careful not to interfere in what she is doing for him.  When she kissed her way back up his neck to his lips, he was waiting for her with another toe-curling kiss.

She kissed him back passionately, and he felt a little murmur of pleasure against his mouth.  But after a moment the kiss shifted, became something less sensual and aggressive, and more soft and tender. It was different from the women who usually wanted him, the handful of women he’d bothered with in the last couple of years. Those women didn’t give enough of a damn to kiss him like this, full of tenderness and gentle caring.

She lingered there for several moments, but then he felt her break away from the kiss and begin to slide down his body. Her mouth moved over his chest as she slowly dropped down to her knees in front of him. One hand continued to stroke him even as the other moved over his thigh; he spread his legs apart automatically, allowing her to kneel between them. She glanced up at him, her tongue flicking softly across her lips.  They were still moist from his kiss, and as she lowered them towards his cock she kept her gaze locked with his.  Then her lips brushed slowly over his tip, feather-light, as her hand stilled at the base of his shaft.

“You want a warning?” Tony asked, his voice filled with drunken lust and heat.  “Before I come?”

“A heads up never hurts, I suppose,” she murmured against him, and then proceeded to run the tip of her tongue down him, from tip to base and back again before she slowly slipped him into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut as she began to stroke him again, sliding him in and out of her mouth a little deeper each time. It was a slow sort of torture, and she appeared to be in no particular hurry whatsoever.

“Evil woman with your wiles,” Tony moaned softly as he tangled his fingers into her hair.  “Why did I let you talk me into torturing me like this?  Oh, right - because blow jobs are awesome.”

“Are you going to talk the entire time?” Emma asked, lifting her head with a look of annoyance.

“I really need something to do with my mouth.”  He leaned down, his lips next to her ear.  “Want to move back to the bed and try this another way?”

She drew in a slow breath, the desire to torture Tony Stark unimpeded warring briefly in her mind with the desire to feel his mouth on her again. She brushed her lips across him, and then very lightly stroked the length of him, her thumb playing softly at the base of his tip as she slowly stood up. “What the hell. We obviously need to keep that mouth of yours occupied somehow.”

“You could let me talk.  Who knows what sensitive secrets you’ll get out of me in this state?”  Tony was grinning as he rose, his hands on her hips.  He kept her close as they moved back to the bed, releasing her only to drop back onto the bed.  Tony stretched out like a model showing off for the camera, his eyes watching her appreciative gaze.  As she paused to admire, he wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked softly, silently inviting her to resume.

She took her time looking, and while she was obviously admiring, she was also amused. Her lips curved upwards at the corners in a wry grin and she laughed softly as she settled down onto the bed with him, straddling his lap. She reached down and began to stroke him, her thumb running small circles around the base of his tip and stroking the underside of it gently. “You’re an arrogant son of a bitch, Stark. There’s probably something wrong with me, but I seem to find it endearing.”

“You aren’t alone.  I find it endearing too.”  Tony laughed when she lightly slapped his chest.  “What?  I’m man enough to admit I have feelings for a man.”

She rolled her eyes, and let out an amused noise. “That doesn’t make you open-minded, Tony. That just makes you a narcissist.”

“I’ve been called that before.  I think I just have good taste.  In men and women.”  His voice grew warmer and he cupped her hips, lifting her and pulling her higher on his body.  “Are you on any kind of protection?  I’m not worried about STIs - I’ve seen your medical file, after all.”

“You’re obviously too drunk to remember all of it,” she laughed gently, and kissed his cheek and jaw gently, almost playfully. “Mandatory IUD before the mission, remember?”

“That’s right. I put that in just because I hate babies.”  His grin turned that remark into a joke but there may have been some truth in it.  For a man who’d slept around as much as Tony had, he had to have been very careful to avoid getting a woman pregnant. He inched her a little higher on his body, and it was clear where his mind was going.

She smirked at him, and continued to torment him, rubbing the pad of her thumb gently over his tip. “I don’t know, I haven’t gotten any state secrets out of you yet.” She pushed him back gently, urging him back onto the bed. She felt like watching Tony writhe a bit. He was entirely too self-satisfied at the moment.

When he didn’t object, she slid back down his thighs a bit and leaned over, taking him back into her mouth. She spent several minutes that way, stroking and teasing with her tongue and even very gently with her teeth, until she was drawing him deep enough into her mouth that he could feel himself press against the back of her throat.

“You’ve never tried to interrogate me using this method before.” Despite his words, Tony clearly wasn’t complaining.  The drunken smile on his face was evidence enough that he was having fun.  “Is this your version of waterboarding?  Because sign me up for HYDRA, then.”

She couldn’t laugh, he felt her swallow around him as she tried to suppress it. But she raked her nails across the back of his thigh, biting into his skin with them a little harder than before as she continued. If he was still capable of smart-ass comments, her job obviously wasn’t done. Her pace and her actions became more intense and focused as she sought out the methods that drew the deepest reaction from him.

For a long moment, she thought she’d succeeded until he started talking again.  “This is way better than what happened in the cave.  Better beds, no car battery strapped to my chest and way better toys to play with.”  His hands were coiling through her hair again, his strong fingers playing with the strands.  When her teeth ‘punished’ him again, he winced and said, “Though no one was biting me.”

Finally she slid him out of her mouth, her tongue swirling around him as she pulled away. She looked down at him, her eyes narrowed in frustration as her hand wrapped around him and began to stroke him,  _hard_ , and straddled his thighs again. “Just what the hell does it take to drive you crazy, Stark? No one’s immune, not even you.”

“Who says you’re not driving me crazy?” he asked, his hands gripping her thighs.  “Am I not babbling about nothing?  Or does exhibiting crazy have to match a certain behavior?”  The last was said with an arrogant smirk.

She laughed, realizing that he was right, and that he had indeed spent the last few minutes rambling somewhat nonsensically. “Well, I was going for speechless, but since you seem to favor the opposite I guess I’ll just have to give you something to do with that mouth after all.” As she spoke she shifted in his lap, her hips moving close to his. He felt her rub against his cock, and she felt wet and hot, completely ready for him. Then her arms circled around his neck and she kissed him deeply, her body pressing invitingly against his.

Tony took advantage of her invitation as his hands gripped her ass more tightly.  He lifted her body into the air and shifted his hips in a smooth practiced motion.  His lips and tongue caressed her mouth as he bodily positioned them both and lowered her onto his cock.  Even with the kiss, Tony was making noises as her warm entrance embraced him.  She may have said he was almost moaning with need.

In a sudden motion, he rolled, putting her on bottom.  Moving his hands behind her back, he kissed his way down her neck to her breasts again. His mouth remained safely occupied as he worked on her sensitive nipples to increase her pleasure.  The sure thrusts of his hips never changed, his cock sliding in and out of her body in a steady rhythm.

Her breath came in soft, uneven gasps as she moved her body with his, matching the movement of his thrusts. He felt her legs slide up against his and wrap around his waist and she buried a hand in his hair, letting her nails running lightly over his scalp. He could feel her tensing, like a tightly wound coil beneath his touch. He nipped lightly, tugging at one of her nipples. She moaned softly, and he felt her tremble underneath him, whispering his name, pleading with him not to stop.

Tony’s lips didn’t cease their actions, even as he laid a trail of kisses up her chest to her throat and finally back to her lips.  His thrusts came with more speed and force, though not painful.  He kept kissing her, moving so that his hands were teasing and tormenting her nipples.  Tony wasn’t sure how long he’d been here in heaven but he knew it was drawing to a close.  With a moan, he lifted his head from her well-kissed lips and whispered, “I’m close, so close.  God!”

“Yes - oh, god, Tony - please!” she moaned, her arms wrapping around him.  She ran her nails up and down his back and then clung to him, burying her face against his shoulder and pressing her lips firmly to his sweat-slicked skin. Throughout the room small metal objects began to vibrate, as if affected by subtle seismic activity. Her legs and arms tightened around him as if holding onto him would hold off the inevitable, but finally it was upon her. Several metal items in the room shifted or fell over, and Emma cried out wordlessly as her muscles clenched and tightened around him, spasming in pleasure and release.

The multiplication tables Tony had been running through in his head to distract him from the sex - with the purpose of making it last longer, of course - collapsed under the pleasure of the moment.  With a groan, he pressed his forehead to her shoulder and clung to her as his body tightened to the point of climax.  For a breathless moment, he hung at that moment, on the edge of pain, and then his body released the ecstasy.  Pressing himself into Emma as deeply as possible, Tony shuddered as he came.

His body relaxed in increments.  Tony slipped out of her and shifted slightly to the side.  “Mmm,” he murmured, his breath hot on her neck.

“Mmm,” she mirrored in response, one of her hands sliding to his side and wandering idly across his skin. She was like putty in his arms, soft and pliable, though she did nuzzle the side of his neck gently. “That was . . . incredible.”

He didn’t answer her immediately, just breathed in the steady, even rhythm.  It was, Emma realized after the moment of silence had gone on too long, a very constant respiration. 

That was the moment she heard the first soft snore. A half-dozen smart-ass comments started forming in her mind, but most of them dwindled out before she’d finished them, and her lips twitched in mild amusement.

_Well, maybe just for a minute. I’m entirely too exhausted to move, and this bed is very comfortable . . ._

* * *

 

When Emma woke, it was only to use the restroom. The clock on Tony’s nightstand read 4:30 a.m., and at first she didn’t realize where she was. It had been a long time since she’d had that much to drink, and it was only when she shifted to sit up that she realized something was pinning down her arm. She blinked slightly, trying to focus.

  _What on earth am I - oh god._

She drew in a sharp breath as she realized who she was curled next to. The memories of the evening came rushing back to her, and she sat up slowly, reaching over to flip on a lamp. It wasn’t much light, but it was enough to give her a good look at their surroundings. The chair and desk had been jerked around, as if someone had abandoned them in the middle of moving. On the dresser her abilities had knocked over a clear glass vase that had been filled with small decorative balls made of metal. Fortunately the glass was heavy enough where it hadn’t broken, but the balls were scattered all over the carpet. Across the room two pieces of artwork framed in metal frames had fallen from the wall. And that was only what she could see at a glance.

Next to her, she felt Tony stir. She stopped breathing for a moment, but he merely turned over and continued to sleep. Slowly, carefully, she slipped out of the bed and stood up. With a small gesture, she shifted the desk and the chair back to their rightful places. She made her way across the room and corrected the overturned vase, then lifted the metal balls back into it, cringing at every clink. She hung the pictures manually, making sure they were straight on the walls, then she quietly pulled on her dress and gathered up her shoes and underclothes.

A peek outside the door ensured that was no one else was awake, or at least around. She spared a quick glance back at Tony, still sprawled out asleep, and then quietly slipped out of the room and made her way back down the hall. A quick check on the living room verified that someone - she assumed Clint - had cleaned up the evidence of Tony's earlier outburst, and she sighed with relief. The fewer questions she would have to answer the better, though she had no clue how she was going to face Stark come morning.  _That_ , she concluded with a resigned sigh as she slipped into her own room,  _is a problem to deal with later today_ .


	19. The Value of Therapy

Back at Avenger Tower, the God of Mischief was immediately bored again. Midgard was such a backward, uneventful realm; it was almost as if he were back in his cell. At least there, he’d had books of substance to read. The mortal girl had gone back to her files and his sister - strange as that thought was - had retreated to her own room as well.

He heard movement in the common room. Zoe was curled up on the couch holding a ream of printed paper in her hands. The SHIELD logo was visible at the top of every page and the girl was muttering to herself as she leafed through the sheaf.

“I’m bored,” he announced, coming back into the common room.  “Your world is so _dull_.”

“Well, you could go teleport yourself to the middle of the ghetto or a war-zone, if you want ‘more interesting’. I’ll stay here this time.” She didn’t even look up from the papers, impudent little human.

Loki scowled haughtily at her.  “You will entertain me.  This is _your_ world.”

She did look up at him this time and arched a brow. “One: I am not your servant or your tour guide. Get over it. Two: you are, presumably, a grown man. Entertain yourself or come up with something we _both_ might like doing. The spoiled prince routine is getting old.”

“Fine.”  He was truly angry now but even he would concede that was better than bored.  “You will teach me how to stop my enemies’ hearts.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Like hell I will! I don’t even know if I _can_ , and even if I could, why would I show someone how to do something so awful?” The vase on the coffee table in front of her rumbled a few inches away from her, as if seeking  to escape their confrontation on its own. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “That’s not some party trick to impress girls, Loki. I...they...no. Just no.” Her arms were shaking and she carefully set the print-outs down on the table to keep from dropping them and knocking them out of order.

Of course he would need to persuade her; she couldn’t just agree. “So everyone on your world is perfectly behaved and would never do anything wrong, that I or another might need to stop them from doing?” he asked, taking a seat on the couch and kicking his boots up on the coffee table.  “I will never be accosted by a stronger being who might wish me harm, and my only recourse is self-defense?”

She shivered again, her mind skittering away from the thoughts his words were leading her to. “You’re more than capable of defending yourself against humans, Loki.” She sighed and curled up on herself. “It’s an evil thing to be able to do. Something forced on me by those people and that staff. I...I saw what was left, after those ‘lessons’. I won’t...I won’t do that, when I have a choice in the matter. I’m not a murderer.”

“Yet you gleefully stopped that man… Strucker’s?  You stopped his heart for slaying your beloved Captain.”  He leaned toward her a little, his smile becoming sardonic.  “So easy to not call it murder when you are defending yourself or another, is it?”

The room spun and she jerked away from the godling. “What are you talking about?” She tried to remember the fight in the base, but it was all a blur of monstrous animals and people shouting, and then the cold of being on the Tibetan plateau. “That’s...that’s not what happened.”

Loki scoffed.  “If it is not, then what happened?”

“I...there were monsters…” She frowned, trying to get her memories in order, but every time she thought she had a hold on them, the world spun again and the past returned to a hazy mess. “We were fighting in that room and he got shot. Emma knocked the weapon away and then…then...” She’d pulled her knees up to her chest defensively, and the small items around the room began to slide on their surfaces as if a very slow earthquake was forming. Loki felt a pressure on him, not in his chest, thankfully, but pressing against him as if to push him away from the quaking mortal.

“Verun!”  His loud call brought the mentalist from her room into the living space; she gave her twin an annoyed look.

“What have you done?” she asked, moving with effort to Zoe’s side.  It was clear she didn’t want an answer from him as she turned to the young mortal. “Zoe… what is wrong?”

Loki answered her anyway.  “I was asking her about her memory of the fight where the Soldier died.  Is she having a mental schism?”

“Possibly.”  Verun sighed and muttered, “Can’t you stay out of trouble for a _minute_?”  She rested her hands on Zoe’s shoulder and peered into her mind.

The chaos there yanked at her own sanity, trying to pull Verun into the morass of mangled memory.  The mind had been altered but not by outside sources; yawning holes appeared in the woman’s memory.  Flashes of the fight in Tibet snapped through her mind and the missing portions had been filled in with other random memories.  Right now, Zoe’s brain was struggling to fix the damage done, but her own mind was the source of much of the injury.  In an attempt to shield her from a terrible, mind-shattering event, it was reshaping her memories.

“What was the last thing she said?” Verun asked, keeping her voice calm. 

“She was recounting the fight.  She stopped just before she killed that man.”  He frowned.  “She seemed to have forgotten that she _had_ killed him.  What did those people do to her?”

Verun’s stomach sank at his words.  _Just as I feared._   She opened her mouth to explain to Loki but changed what she said slightly - he seemed to like the mortal, and the Aesir had odd views on mental imbalances.  “They nearly broke her, and it is only her own psyche that saved her from complete destruction.  Healing this will be a long-term effort.” 

His lips formed into an annoyed frown. “How long? Can you not simply heal the damage?”

“No.  This is not an arm I can set.”  She gave him a stern glare.  “And you will not press her about this again, not until I say she is better.”  Already, she was sectioning off the unraveling memories, tucking them away in Zoe’s mind until later.  She also blocked the memory of the battle, knowing that Zoe would likely be upset but also knowing that the young mortal could not face the horror of what she had done to Von Strucker.  “If you want to help, Loki, you can help her build and connect with positive memories.”

“What of her power?” he asked, his cultured voice too casual.

 _Oh, you horse’s ass._   Verun kept the annoyance off her face.  “That will likely take time.  From what she has said, much of that power gained was in captivity, and you and I both know that talents learned under duress can regress when the duress is gone.”

Between them, Zoe’s breathing had slowed back to a normal pace and the eerie slide of objects around  the room subsided. The mortal looked up and blinked, feeling disoriented. She rubbed at her face, her eyes feeling sticky and tired. “Huh? Sorry, did I fall asleep?”

“No, you’re having a mental break.”  Verun’s voice was gentle despite her dire news.  “You are having issues dealing with the combat fatigue of the battle, so I blocked the memory of that from your mind.”

“And this is why _I_ don’t like Vanir mind magicians,” Loki muttered.

Zoe just stared at her, caught between rage at having her mind manipulated again and a cowardly relief at not having to deal with whatever it was Verun had blocked off.

“I will return the memories to you, but your mind needs to rest and recover first.  It is like a broken bone - if it is broken too many times with no time to set and heal, it will crumble.”  Verun leaned back on the couch, her hand sliding off Zoe’s shoulder.  “I will work with you, until you are healed.”

Zoe took a deep breath and reminded herself that these weren’t the same people that had locked her up and made her their personal hand puppet for years. _She’s trying to help_. She nodded to Verun and gave a tired, “Thanks. Um, sorry for being a basket case.”

“That idiom is unknown to me, and so obscure I cannot fathom what you mean.  If you are attempting to apologize for having a normal mental reaction to imprisonment and harrowing combat, I suggest you instead compliment yourself on surviving in the first place.”  Verun glanced at her with those arresting green eyes.  “How is your research into those spying on you developing?”  That seemed an infinitely safer topic.

Zoe sighed and leaned out to pick up the thick pile of papers again. “They’ve been watching me since I was five. Since my parents died. They’re the ones that paid for everything. The fire was started by some terrorist group SHIELD was watching and the agent that was in charge of the team watching them set up my trust fund. That’s as far as I’ve really gotten.” She fanned the papers in her hand as much as she could. “It’s weird, thinking someone was chronicling my entire life.”

She frowned and paged through to the later, more recent, reports on her; she glanced through the dates until she found one to her liking. She pulled out the memo, scanning it quickly. “Sonovabitch. They knew. They were studying me. Just like the HYDRA people...well, minus kidnapping and mental trauma.”

Loki asked even as Verun started to speak, “Studying you for what?”  The simple question was another reminder that neither of these people had the slightest idea what she was talking about.  To them, ‘supernatural’ powers were normal for everyone.

She shifted uncomfortably. “My abilities.”

Loki and Verun exchanged glances.  “You had your powers _before_ being experimented on by the sceptre?” Loki asked.

“Yeah, for a little while. I’m not sure how long.” She frowned sourly at the SHIELD reports. “I bet it’s in here somewhere, though.”

“I can find it,” Loki said, reaching for the papers.

She sighed and plopped the heavy stack in his hands. “Be my guest. My life is an open book on the internet, apparently.”

Loki scanned the pages as Verun said, “Loki, I warned you.  Do not push this.”

“I’m not pushing anything.”  He held up a paper for Zoe to see.  “Ah, how delightful!  Fury and the Coulson were both agents on your case.”

She blinked in surprise. “You know them?”

“I was imprisoned by one and I killed the other.”  Loki said it as if discussing casual friends from college.  “Fury rather liked to stand about blustering impotently, while the Coulson met an honorable, if futile, death.”

Zoe stared at him, trying to figure out how to respond to that. She settled for just waiting quietly for him to sift through the reports, feeling like the utter new kid in a very exclusive and _weird_ social club.

“They noticed the year before my invasion attempt, if I’m doing the math correctly,” Loki said thoughtfully.  “This is interesting.  The Coulson advised mere monitoring, but the agent who took over your case after him had a team watching you actively.”

“Did you murder that agent, too?” Verun asked drily.

“I’ve never met Agent Sitwell.”  Loki dropped the papers back on Zoe’s lap.  “The records end suddenly without mention of his resolution.”

“JARVIS?” Zoe asked the air tentatively. “Do you know what happened? The records go up to right before I was kidnapped. Did they just stop after they couldn’t find me or something?”

“In April of 2014, SHIELD was revealed to house HYDRA agents within its ranks.  According to Steve Roger and Natasha Romanov’s account of that time, Agent Jasper Sitwell was a HYDRA agent and was killed by the Winter Soldier.”

“HYDRA. Those were the people that kidnapped me.” She rubbed at her temples. “Guh. I need a drink.”

“What would you like to drink specifically, Ms. Satelle?”  JARVIS’s ever-helpful voice sounded hopeful.

“Alcohol.”

“Yes, ma’am. Do you favor one type of drink or should I select something based on the preferences of your gender and age?”

“Bourbon.  Sweet and _strong_.”  Zoe rubbed her entire face, her eyes slightly glazed from the information overload.

A moment later, a robot rolled into the room with a tray grasped in the metal claw.  On the tray was a short glass with amber liquid in it.  Distressingly, the robot wore a paper hat with the word ‘Dunce’ written on it. 

Zoe took the glass and gave the robot a bemused grin. “Poor guy.” She held up the glass, peering at the color of the liquid, then toasted her two companions. “To aliens and spies. At least you guys keep life interesting.”

“You are welcome.”  Verun smiled at the not-compliment, it’s real meaning going over her head.

There was a moment of silence and Loki announced, “I’m bored.”

Zoe stared at him a moment, put down her drink and picked up a throw pillow.  “It’s time you guys learned the therapeutic value of the pillow fight.”

And she was right: the look on Loki’s face with she smashed him in the face with the pillow was _very_ therapeutic. 


	20. Trust Issues

The debriefing for the autopsy results was at eight the next morning. It wasn’t clear who would show, but when Clint arrived at five ‘til eight, the conference room in the Avengers’ Place already mostly full. Jane sat on Thor’s lap, his arm curled around her waist with the ease of a long, stable relationship. It had taken a while for the blond prince to get comfortable with Jane’s casual gestures of affection, but now he accepted them with ease. Natasha sat in a chair next to Bucky; the former was staring off into the distance while the latter had his eyes closed, as if napping. Clint doubted the dangerous man was actually asleep.  Darcy had the chair next to Thor, chatting with him and Jane while no doubt holding six conversations over text on her phone.  The youngest member of Sanctuary’s Council was rarely without her smart phone. Phil Coulson had been in Sanctuary for a meet with the Council and was now seated quietly at the table, sipping a cup of coffee and dressed in his usual dark suit. Stark wasn’t here but Emma was, so Clint meandered her direction, which was conveniently toward the food laid out for their breakfast.

“Awesome work last night.” Clint sidled up to Emma’s side as she poured herself a coffee. “See, I told you that you had a way with Stark.”

Emma glanced up at him, looking startled. If he’d been an average guy, he would’ve thought that it had been his approach that startled her. However, this was Clint Barton, otherwise known as Hawkeye. His perception skills were keen, sharp enough to notice that it was only the last part of his statement that seemed to draw a reaction. Emma hadn’t stopped pouring, and the hot coffee spilled over the rim of her cup onto the table before she realized it. 

“Damnit!” she swore, pulling the coffee pot back into the upright position, and setting it down. She grabbed several napkins and began to mop up the mess, hoping the sudden flush she felt in her face wasn’t evident on her cheeks. “No problem. It was fine. He just needed someone to talk to.”

Clint stared at her, his eyes slowly narrowing.  Emma felt her blush worsen under the scrutiny.  The man’s eyebrow rose skeptically as he asked, “Just talked him down, just like that?”

“Basically,” she responded, her voice clipped. There was a stretch of silence, and she picked up the creamer and poured it into the coffee, stirring it in a very focused and methodical manner. Her voice was a little strained, but after several long moments she continued. “He just needed someone to listen, that’s all.”

There was another long moment where Clint studied her.  “To listen to his dick cry?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she snapped. The subtle blush turned into a deep stain of color, but the look she shot him was half-embarrassed and half-furious, her reply an instinctive response. She glanced over her shoulders briefly to make sure no one was standing nearby, and her voice dropped to a low tone. “It wasn’t like that, I- we talked. He thinks we’re losing, Clint, and that we won’t be able to-” She stopped suddenly, not willing to break Tony’s confidence by pouring out his inner fears to Clint Barton. She drew in a breath and tried not to let her embarrassment show on her face, even though it was already too late. She took in his cynical expression and felt resentment blossom, hating herself for feeling the need to defend their actions, even as the words were rolling off her tongue. “We were drunk, Clint. Drunk, and depressed, and it just kind of- I mean- would you please stop looking at me like that?!” she hissed at him, looking mortified.

“Easy there, Emma, unbunch your panties - if you’re wearing them.”  Clint held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, an image that was ruined by the fact that one of the hands had a powdered donut in it.  He had a patina of white dust on one arm as he insisted, “I’m not judging.  I’ve done worse when drunk.”

She studied him cautiously for a moment, then he saw her muscles untense a bit, her expression shift back to one of mild embarrassment. A wry smile even began to play at the corner of her lips. “Oh yeah? Like what?” she asked, looking a bit amused.

The source of Emma’s embarrassment swept into the room with his usual _gravitas_ , everyone pausing whatever they were doing to glance in his direction. He looked . . . pretty much exactly like she’d left him, which irked her for some reason, and he headed immediately for the breakfast table. He nodded to her and Clint as he loaded up a plate with enough donuts and pastries for a small army, grabbed a cup of coffee to match, and took up his place at the meeting table.

Emma’s eyes followed him across the room until Clint finally spoke up, his voice still low enough not to be overheard. “You’re staring.”

She jerked her gaze away immediately, realizing he was right. Swallowing, she picked up her coffee and a donut, murmuring quietly to Clint at the same time. “Just keep it quiet, okay? Please?”

Her only answer was a Cheshire smile as Clint waggled his eyebrows and headed for an empty seat next to Natasha.  The red headed assassin leaned over and brushed the sugar from his arm with an indulgent smile.

Dr. Narang arrived last, the diminutive doctor carrying a medical file and small tablet in her arms. Jane hastily removed herself from her fiance’s lap and took her own chair. The doctor gathered only a large cup of caffeine-filled coffee from the breakfast table before syncing up her tablet to the Sanctuary mainframe and the room’s large television. “Is everyone ready?” she asked.

“Go ahead, Doc,” Clint said, after a brief glance around to make sure everyone was present. “What did you find out?”

The typically no-nonsense doctor hesitated briefly, glancing in Natasha’s direction. Then she nodded, setting down the file and tapping the tablet, bringing it to life. After a couple quick touches to the device, the projection screen flickered to life in front of them, though at the moment it displayed the desktop screen of the mobile device. “I’ve officially ruled Captain Rogers’ death a result of massive trauma to the chest region, for lack of any better description.”

Her fingers began to move across the tablet, and on the projection screen the photo application sprung up, showing a picture of Steve’s chest, still clad in the uniform. She had - whether for merciful reasons or just because it wasn’t necessary to this particular photo - kept the pictures limited to just the relevant area of his body, but the odd thing about this particular picture was the concave indentation in his chest cavity. The next two photos were a picture of just the uniform after she’d removed it from Steve, both a front view and a back view. Though the front view was marred by a thin circle of blood and the back view was soaked in it, neither view of the armor seemed to show any actual damage.

“In this picture, you can see that the Captain’s suit hasn’t been breached in any way - no tears, bullet holes, or burn marks. Just the blood stains. Once I removed his uniform, however, it was an entirely different story.”  She flicked her fingers across the tablet again, and this time there was a picture of his bare chest, without the familiar suit. “In this picture, you can see where Captain Rogers was injured. The area of injury was approximately six inches wide, and encompassed a section of his chest cavity that included almost all of his heart. It also included large portions of both of his lungs, a section of his spinal column and ribs, and all of the muscle tissue in the area. Technically he bled out, though death was inevitable no matter what, due to the extent of the injuries.”

She flicked away from the horrible picture, though the next one wasn’t much better. It was a close-up of the wound, showing a section of open chest cavity. It was completely through and through, a half-foot circle of the metal exam table showing through the hole of Steve’s body. “If you observe closely, you’ll see that the flesh and damaged organs haven’t been misplaced, or pushed out of the way due to trauma. They’re merely . . . gone. In fact, at a cellular level,” she continued, continuing on to a picture that appeared to be from a microscope slide, “the tissue has been separated cleanly - impossibly so. No tearing along celular divisions, no rough damage, not even the impact that a sharp blade has on cell structure. It’s as if someone reached in, past his clothing, and just willed this chunk of his body out of existence.”

The room sat in stunned silence as Steve’s death was explained; the implications for the destructive and deadly power of the weapon that had done the deed were not lost on the warriors gathered. “How the hell do we stop that?” Tony asked with a tremor of despair in his voice.

“With cunning and luck,” Thor rumbled. “Though in truth, I’ve never heard of a weapon of this kind, even in Asgard.”

“Comforting,” Darcy grumped and frowned. “The whole world’s gonna be in a lot of hurt quick if that thing is running around in HYDRA hands.”

“We took it,” Tony reassured her, then added, “but we don’t know if it was the only one. Or if anyone that made it out of the base knows how to make it. We need a way to counter it and _fast_.”

Darcy nodded her agreement, but looked to Jane instead of Stark. “What do you think? If we make this top priority for the Brain Trust, can you guys figure something out?”

Jane leaned forward, her mind tumbling through a dozen different theories on how the gun _might_ work. “We’re going to have to, but it’s going to take time. This is . . . Thor’s right. There’s nothing else like it on Earth.”

“Now wait a minute,” Tony interjected, looking irritated. “No offense to your Brain Train, or whatever you’re calling this crew of yours, but it’s going back to my labs with me. Your people aren’t equipped to handle weapons research--”

“This isn’t a traditional human weapon, Mr. Stark,” Jane replied, cutting him off. “You heard the doctor - this sounds like something different, acquired by or perhaps modified from some sort of alien technology.”

“You said they had the Chitauri Sceptre,” Phil mentioned, following Jane’s train of thought. “Could it be derived from that somehow?”

“That’s what we need to find out,” she said with a shrug. “It’s why we need to get every available person working on this. But even then, it might take awhile--”

“We don’t _have_ a while!” Tony yelled, slamming a fist down on the table. “It’s a weapon, that’s what I do. Just give it to me, and I’ll figure out something to counter it!”

“And just how do you intend to do that, without understanding how it works?” Jane argued, starting to look annoyed now. 

“You don’t have to know how gravity works to know dropping a piano on someone from a three-story building is going to kill them,” Tony responded. “Give me the weapon and I’ll figure out a defense, then you and your Brain Train--”

“Brain _Trust_ ,” Jane corrected hotly, “and we don’t even _have_ the weapon! If we did, do you think I’d be sitting here, wasting time arguing with you about it instead of trying to figure it out?”

“Wait, who the hell has it then?” Clint interjected, looking irritated at the argument. He hadn’t realized until now that neither of the scientists that were currently fighting over it were in possession of the weapon.

“I do,” Emma replied. Everybody stopped and turned, looking at the newest member of the Avengers. “I took it out of Von Strucker’s hand after he shot Steve with it. I’ve got it.”

“Where is it, Emma?” Phil asked, looking a bit relieved she was the one in possession of it. He taken her leaving SHIELD a little hard, but it was good for Stark to have someone looking after him again.

“It’s hidden,” she replied, earning her surprised stares from the rest of the Avengers present. She looked around at all of them, then shrugged a bit defensively. “We got here yesterday, I still had the weapon. No one asked for it on the plane, and I realized when I got to my room I still had it. I don’t know anyone here, except for you guys. I don’t know how secure this place really is, I couldn’t risk anyone getting their hands on it. So I hid it somewhere safe, somewhere only I could get to it.”

“Good idea, Emma.” All eyes turned to Natasha, who had been utterly silent the entire time. “That’s what I would have done.” She looked around the room, eyes resting on Tony and Jane. “Stop arguing and figure it out. This thing killed Steve with one shot. We don’t have time for the two of you to sit around and act like children fighting over a new toy.”

The two scientists stared at each other, a silent battle of wills. “I’ve got better labs,” Tony insisted.

“I’ve got more people,” Jane countered.

“I know weapons,” he reiterated.

“My people don’t need to spend a good amount of their time flying around the world in a metal suit.” It was said as neutrally as she could, but the point was still there. She had people and time; Tony had himself and a crumbling world infrastructure to deal with.

He sighed. “Fine, but if you guys take too long . . .”

“I expect to find you in the labs, breathing down the engineers’ necks. Right next to me.” Jane smiled, accepting her win gracefully.

“I have the greatest confidence that Jane’s scientists will work hard to present us with a speedy countermeasure,” Thor said with a smile, trying to reassure his teammate.

“Is that it, then? Do we have anything else that we need to discuss, while we’re all here?” Clint closed the folder on the medical report that he had been idly thumbing through during the bickering. There was a moment of silence, then he nodded briskly. “Alright then. Dr. Narang, thank you for getting that information to us so quickly. Emma, if you’ll show Jane to the weapon, I guess we’re done.”


	21. Friends With Benefits

Zoe woke up in softness and for a moment she panicked. It took nearly a full minute for her mind to walk back through the events of the past couple of days and remind that she was in a guest room in Avenger Tower. She indulged in the luxury of a hot shower, washing her hair three full times before she felt truly clean again. She slipped back into her borrowed dress and debated what to do for the morning. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Ms. Satelle?”

“I need to buy some clothes of my own. And shoes. Is there any way I can get access to my bank account, do you know?”

“Proving your identity to your bank will take several days, as well as the time to mail a new debit card here. However, I am authorized to grant you access to a small account Sir has set aside for guests to use while you are here. Shall I have a card printed for you?”

Zoe dithered for a moment, not wanting to be further in Mr. Stark’s debt, but also not wanting to run around New York barefoot when Loki invariably decided he was bored twenty seconds after waking up. “Yes, thank you. As soon as I get my finances sorted out, I’ll repay Mr. Stark.”

“That is unnecessary, Ms. Satelle, but as you wish. The card will be waiting for you at the receptionist’s desk on the first floor.”

“Thank you, JARVIS.” She looked up several clothing and shoe stores near the Tower before stepping out into the common room. Loki was already about, sitting on the couch and staring dubiously at an orange from the basket of fruit that had appeared on the coffee table overnight. He looked, as usual, less than impressed.

“I don’t think it’s going to hatch, Loki,” Zoe stated drolly.

“How would I know?” he asked.  “I don’t know what it is.”

She sat down next to him, plucked the orange out of his hands, and peeled it enough to pull several wedges of fruit out. She held one out to him, “It’s an orange. This is the part you eat. It’s tangy and sweet.”

He took a wedge, his nostrils flaring in disgust.  Hesitantly, he took a bite before setting it on the table.  “It’s repulsive.  Do you have any real food to eat here?”

She laughed and stood up. “Of course it’s disgusting. It’s an orange. They’re only palatable squeezed to juice and mixed with champagne.” She held out a hand to him, grinning. “I’m back in civilization. Somewhere in this city there is a latte and cheese danish waiting for me and I intend to hunt them down and devour them. I’m sure we can find something for you, too, if you want to come along.”

His eyes narrowed at her.  “Why do you want _my_ company?  I thought you mortals detested me.”

She arched a brow at him. “We’re not a hive mind, Loki. I barely know you and the only way you get to really know someone is to spend time with them.” Her grin had faded, but there was still an impish spark in her eye. She teased, “Besides, I shudder to think what would be left of the tower if you got _bored_ and no one was around to entertain you.”

“I wouldn’t destroy Stark’s precious tower.  My brother made it clear that would violate guest obligations.”  Loki’s lips twisted, feeling shackled by his brother even in his absence. “And I mustn’t disappoint my dear family.”

Zoe shook her head, unwilling to give up her good mood to his sour one. “I was kidding, Loki. Besides, there are dozen things that come to mind that you could do to the Tower that don’t technically count as destruction.” She tilted her head thoughtfully, “Especially if there’s jello or pudding around somewhere.” She shrugged and held out her hand again. “The invitation is just that - an opportunity to get out for a while, get something utterly calorie-filled for breakfast, and do some shopping. If you don’t want to, I’ll go on my own easy enough.”

“What is calorie-filled food?” he asked, still frowning, but not saying yes or no.

“Food that tastes good, has way more calories in it than you need in one meal, and little redeeming nutritional value.” She gave him a curious look, “Does Asgard not have food like that? Pastries, sugary drinks, stuff like that?”

“No, most of your words make no sense.  I do know that Midgardian food is too sweet, mostly.”  He sighed suddenly; at least going out would be doing _something_.  “Very well, I shall accompany you.  It will be marginally less boring than remaining here.”

“So nice of your highness to deign to spend time with me,” she said sardonically, just barely able to keep herself from rolling her eyes.

The receptionist on the first floor gave the two of them a startled look when Zoe stopped to collect the credit card, but the LMD was programmed to deal with the oddness that passed through Avenger Tower on a fairly regular basis. Zoe opted for a cab to get them to their first destination, instead of walking barefoot the several blocks to the closest actual bakery. Starbuck’s was fine for a hot chocolate, but she wanted hot, _real_ pastries.

The dozen or so patrons of the bakery were just awake enough to stare at the two of them as they stepped in. _Well, speaks well of the coffee, I guess._ She stepped up to the counter, “I’ll have a caramel latte with whipped cream and a cheese danish, please.” She glanced back at Loki, “Do you want to try anything? Most of it is sweet, but they have coffee, tea, and some non-sweet bagels and cream cheese.”

“I can recommend the breakfast sandwich,” the smiling attendant behind the counter said.  “You might like that, sir.”

“My name is Loki.”  He stared at her coldly.  “I will take one of these… breakfast sandwiches.”  The godling stared at the drink list without comprehension.  “I trust you can also choose a suitable morning tea.”

The server’s smile never wavered; most of the men that came into the bakery were grumpy before their morning shot of caffeine - and few of them were nearly as easy on the eyes. “How about starting with an Earl Grey?”

At his dismissive nod, she rang up the order and held out a small plastic tent with a number engraved on it. “Just put this on your table and I’ll bring out your order when it’s ready.”

Loki made a face.  “Why must we wait?” he whined to Zoe.

Zoe took the tent after paying and steered him away from the counter. “Because they have to _make_ the drinks and the sandwich. It’ll just be a minute. If you’re already bored, you can go back and flirt with the cashier until the food’s ready.” She glanced over her shoulder where the woman was most definitely still watching Loki with interest, much to the annoyance of the customer behind them.

Loki all-but sneered at her but didn’t say anything, his expression settling into pouting lines.  “How long must we wait?” he asked.

“Probably like five minutes,” she sighed, motioning him to sit in one of the booths. True to her word, several minutes later the cashier abandoned the counter long enough to usurp their food from the actual server and deliver it herself. She laid down the plates, mostly ignoring Zoe and slipping a napkin with her phone number on it half under Loki’s plate.

Zoe hid her grin behind her cup, losing her train of thought as a welcome rush of caffeine and sugar warmed it’s way down to her stomach. She let them both eat in silence for a moment before poking the mercurial Asgardian. “So, are you going to call her?”

“Call her what?  A subpar servant?”  Loki sipped the tea and his expression shifted to something more pleasant.  “At least she is a decent cook.  With a face like that, I think they should keep her in the kitchen, however.”

Zoe’s eyes widened and she looked around to make sure the girl had gone back to the counter and hadn’t heard his comments. She held up the napkin, “Call her, as in use the number she gave you get in contact with her later, probably for a date. Maybe even get laid. Good lord, do people not _flirt_ in Asgard? And you shouldn’t say something like that about another person. You don’t know anything about her and looks aren’t everything.” She bit her lip to keep herself from descending into a rant about appearance, but added, “Just because you don’t have to deal with that kind of judgement, doesn’t mean it isn’t really hurtful to others, Loki.”

“What do I care what a servant thinks?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  “She’s there to serve my food and bring me tea.”

“Jesus, be an ass much?” she snapped, her patience finally wearing thin. “That’s her _job_ , not the sum of who she is as a person. You know, for all your teleporters and city made of gold, you Asgardians are positively _medieval_.”

“I am not Aesir!  They rejected me!”  He’d raised his voice to match her annoyance, his brow furrowing in anger.  The godling knew he’d said too much and attempted to recover.  His expression turned devious.  “Did my remark about her face hit a little too close to home, Zoe?”

She stared at him, her eyes slowly settling into simmering rage. She moved calmly, though, pulling the lid off of her latte and standing up out of the booth. Loki watched her, curious if she was about to burst into to tears and run out of the food shop. Instead she gave him a sickly sweet smile and then dumped her steaming hot drink over his head.

“You wench!” he howled as he came to his feet, his green eyes blazing.  “How dare you!”  The entire cafe was watching the morning show; one woman was avidly eating her danish while unabashedly staring.

“Just like that,” she shot back, crossing her arms and refusing to back down. “Your people might have indulged your rudeness, _your highness_ , but I don’t have to and I _won’t_. If you act like a jerk, you’ll get treated like one.”

Every eye in the room darted to Loki, whose pale skin had gathered spots of red.  “I don’t know what a ‘jerk’ is but you will undo this mess!”  He grabbed her arm and in a blink, they were back in their suite in Avenger Tower.  “You will help me clean up,” he ordered.

She rose up on her toes, leaning into him instead of trying to back away or cower in the face of his anger. “No,” she said defiantly.

“Yes!” he roared.  “I will not be humiliated this way, not without my recompense.”  His golden armor faded from view and he started to tug open his shirt underneath.  “You soiled me and you will fix that!”

“You insulted me!” she shouted back. “And some poor woman who just thought you were cute! You don’t get to run around being obnoxious and then expect people to give a shit when _you’re_ upset! That goes both ways, Loki.” She glared at him, doing her best to ignore the fact that he was undressing in front of her. “If you want others to care about your feelings, you need to show that you care anything about theirs.”

As much as it irked him to admit, she was citing one of the rules of manipulation: let others believe you cared about them.  He pulled the shirt off of his head, his face settling somewhere angry and thoughtful.  It was a _good_ look for him, though that might have been the bare expanse of chest instead.  “If I apologize, will you help me?” he asked, testing the waters of understanding - and the means by which she could be manipulated.

She took a breath and nodded, “Yes.” She didn’t move to help him, though. He hadn’t actually apologized _yet_.

He unlaced his pants and started to shimmy out of them.  “Very well.  I am sorry that I hurt your feelings by referencing your scars.”  He _sounded_ sincere.

She’d turned on a heel when he’d started to pull his pants off; at his words, she stiffened. “My _face_ isn’t scarred, Loki. Also, if you want my help, keep your pants on.” She stalked into the bathroom, obviously still upset, but she grabbed several towels from closet to help dry him off. At the door to the bathroom she asked, “Are your pants on?”

“No.  I need to bathe and wash my _hair_.  How can I do that with my pants or smallclothes on?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit petulant.  “You didn’t put any terms on helping me, Zoe.  Are you keeping your word, or not?”

She screamed into the towels in pure frustration before answering.  “Are you _serious_?”

“Do I seem otherwise?” he asked coolly.

“This man is going to be the death of me,” she muttered to herself, knowing she was probably already strawberry red again. “Do you really need help to take a shower? I thought you just wanted to towel off the coffee.” _You know, like a human being instead of a demented alien Disney prince intent on shredding what little sanity I have left. Silly me._

He stalked into the room, magnificently naked.  Zoe shut her eyes but she’d already caught a good view of him.  “I know not what a ‘shower’ is,” he said as water started to run from the faucet.  “I will bathe.  Then we can leave the building and perhaps try breakfast again.”

She scooted around the room, resolutely staring at the floor. She felt her way over to the tub, then leaned in a pulled the small lever that switched the water from the faucet to the shower head. “There, shower. Useful for quick cleaning and washing your hair.” She dared a quick look up his face and asked curiously, “Does Asgard not have showers? Only baths?”

He flicked it back with a click.  “I want a bath. That is my preferred method.”  He splashed the water lightly, testing it, perhaps.  After a moment, he sighed.  “What portion of my body is so offensive that you cannot bear to see it?”

She flushed again and slid down against the tub, facing away from him. “It’s not offensive. It’s...I’m guessing Asgard doesn’t have any nudity taboos? Thor did seem startled when I asked for a room to change in,” she remembered. “For Americans, you just don’t look at someone naked unless you’re in a relationship with them. It’s,” she searched for the word before settling on, “intimate.”

“I thought we were becoming friends or some such,” Loki said.  “Is my cock so frightening?”

Her eyes widened and she laughed, descending into to giggles for a moment. “You and I have _very_ different definitions of ‘friends’, if cocks are a part of that definition, Loki. That’s at least a ‘with benefits’.”

“I thought that it was of benefit to have friends.”  He sighed and she heard splashing as he stepped into the tub. _Can she ever make sense?  She’s far more confusing than other mortals._

She relaxed just a little now that he seemed content with letting her sit _outside_ the tub. “Uh, that’s not what ‘friends with benefits’ means.”

“Then please, educate me.”  There was some more splashing and a masculine sigh of pleasure as he settled back into the water.

 _My face is going to burst into flames._ She stuttered for a moment, then tried, “It means friends that are, y’know, _close_. Intimate.”

“Oh, for Hel’s sake,” he moaned softly, “explain it to me as if I were a _child_ , and you may get it right yet.”

She bit back some choice comments about him and _acting_ like a child and instead snapped, “Sex, Loki. It’s friends that have sex without having or intending to have a romantic relationship. Clear enough?”

“Yes.  Why didn’t you say so?”  He sighed softly and moved the water around as it continued to fill the tub.  “If I agree to have sex with you as a friend, will you please wash my damned hair?”  He wasn’t worried about her agreeing; her attitude on sexual encounters were already quite clear to him. Teasing her, on the other hand, was quite entertaining.

That was enough to shock her into staring at him, her mouth hanging open like a fish. “ _What?_ That’s not what I...there’s shampoo and conditioner on the... _seriously?_ ” _I’m alone with a demented alien prince. In a tub. Naked in a tub. How did this become my life?_

“I know that most Aesir wouldn’t be so forward, but most Aesir are incredibly stiff regarding sex,” he said earnestly.  “In fact, if you want to disrobe and join me, I’ll show you why I’m insisting.”

“Insisting on washing your hair? Or sex?” Her mind was running a little slow at the moment, on account of her desperately shushing the less-than-responsible parts of her anatomy that thought this would be a simply _delightful_ way to spend the morning.

“On washing my hair,” he purred, “but I do find it _delightfully_ amusing that you are so sure I mean sex.”

She thought about storming out of the bathroom. Then she thought about the high likelihood of being accosted by a naked and dripping Loki halfway through the bedroom. _There is no scenario in this in which I win, is there?_ “Okay, I’m going to ignore that one. I’m _not_ getting in the tub and I’m definitely _not_ undressing.” She’d had enough people stare at her to last her a lifetime and she certainly didn’t want add someone like Loki to the list. “Hand me the shampoo and move so I can run water from the faucet over your hair, and I’ll wash it for you. Satisfied?”

“Of course.”  The shampoo thumped onto the tile near her head.  A second later, the water swished and swirled as he shifted position.  “I am ready.”

She turned to face the tub, keeping her eyes firmly on his scalp. She poured a dollop of shampoo on her hand, then tentatively began to lather it into his hair.

Loki made pleased sounds as she worked.  For the duration of the wash, he was compliant with her requests, moving his head where she asked and generally being a model bath patient.  Zoe enjoyed the moment, his hair heavy over her fingers.  There was something oddly intimate about washing his hair, even discounting the fact that he was naked.  She was almost sorry when she was done, and his hair was free of coffee and cream and sugar.

“There,” she said softly, lulled into a quiet mode by the steady ministrations on his hair. “All clean and conditioned.” She carefully slid her fingers out of his hair and turned off the water she’d been rinsing with. She didn’t move away from the tub, though, momentarily lost in the comfortable  haze of steam and mint-scented conditioner.

“Do you want sex now, or will you spare yourself that horror?” he asked drily, moving lazily in the water.

She smacked him on the arm, splashing water over the tub in the process. “Ass,” she said, but without the heat of true anger. “If I wanted to get laid, I could do so without hair washing bribery, thank you very much.”

“I am aware.”  Just those three words were packed with some irony and heat.  “If you want me to wash your hair some time, I would.  For a friend.  It’s quite nice.”

That offer, more than anything else he’d done or said so far, managed to render her completely speechless. She stood and laid the towels down next to the tub. “The towels are right here,” she murmured and retreated to the door. “I’ll, uh, let you get dressed. Then we can try breakfast again. Maybe just run by a Starbucks this time.” With that, she made her escape to the common room to wait for him.


	22. Pied Piper

When he left the bathroom, Loki wore a tailored suit with a green scarf - well, he wore his armor but preferred this illusion for simplicity’s sake.  He was tired of being stared at by mortals.  “Breakfast, second round.”  He smiled pleasantly enough that Zoe wondered what he was up to.  To her increasing suspicion, he behaved himself perfectly as they found another place to get food and ate.  He spoke little but all of his words were polite.  “Where shall we go now?” he asked once they were back on the street in front of the store.

Her suspicion became far weaker than her discomfort as she navigated the warming sidewalk in bare feet. “The nearest store with shoes,” she said, glancing down the street. There were the usual mix of hole-in-the-wall stores and, thankfully, a larger department store.

Inside, the floor was blistering cold compared to the warm asphalt on the street, but at least there wasn’t trash and glass littering the walkways. Zoe frowned when she realized that it was a more expensive boutique-type store, but there was no way she was going back outside before getting shoes. The saleswomen eyed the two of them curiously, but kept their distance for a moment as they silently contended for who would wait on the wealthy man and the woman with him.

“Woman.”  Loki snapped his fingers impatiently; it was a little over the top but the modern suit helped sell it.  “Come assist my companion.”

A brunette, lithe and ambitious, separated herself from the pack and approached them. “Of course, sir.” She directed her attention to Zoe, but it was clear who she considered dominant of the two. “My name is Carmen. How may I help you, miss?”

Zoe gave herself a brownie point for not snapping at the woman. “Shoes, boots preferably, socks, and then I’ll need to get a few outfits.”

Carmen nodded and began leading them through the store. She sat Zoe down in a plush chair and brought over an assortment of boots, none with a heal less than three inches. She frowned when Zoe shook her head and stood back up. “Let me look around for a minute. It’ll go faster that way.”

The saleswoman trailed behind the young woman, keeping step with the gentleman. “Is this her first time in Bergdorf Goodman?” she asked gently, trying to feel out the exact relationship between the elegant man and the headstrong woman.

“I’m not sure.  I only met her yesterday,” Loki said truthfully, opting to keep the lies simple for now.

“I… see,” Carmen smiled diplomatically. She lowered her voice, making certain that it wouldn’t carry to Zoe’s ears. “Is there any particular style of dress you would like me to direct her towards? Something to your liking, sir?”

Loki caught her meaning immediately and smiled, amused by the lies Carmen was telling herself.  “I do so love the color green, and I believe that she would look charming in it as well.”  He’d always picked that as his hue and it would make the mortals turn a wonderful shade of green if he and Zoe were dressed to match.

Carmen tugged flirtatiously on his scarf. “This particular shade, sir?”

Loki delicately freed it from her fingers in a gesture that immediately shut her down for that particular approach.  “Oh, yes, this exact shade.”

For Zoe, the next half hour was an exercise in not strangling “Carmen”, who insisted on making her try on a dozen different frilly break-your-ankle boots that only seemed to have green trim in common. She managed to pick out a few sets of her own liking, trying them on in between the overly solicitous saleswoman's offerings.

Loki seemed entirely too amused with the tug-of-war between them, watching Zoe’s frustration build as she took on and off a dozen different shoes. When she laced up a pair of low-heeled black boots that came up to her knees, Loki said, “Well done, Carmen.  I commend your taste.”  It was that or get yelled at by Thor for causing Zoe to go on a murder spree in Midgard.

If looks could leave mangled bodies, the department store would have been a horror movie right then. Zoe muttered something too low for either one of them to make out, but her look was clear. She took a breath and forced a smile. “Alright, shoes taken care of for now. Socks and then outfits.”

She picked out a half-dozen pairs of socks, grudgingly accepting the three green pairs from Carmen. _This woman has a problem. Is she in love with Kermit the Frog or something?_

Once they’d reached the women’s section, Carmen turned to Loki. “Where would you like to begin?”

“Wherever Zoe would like to start,” Loki said with that smile, the one that Zoe already knew meant he was up to something.

She tightened her jaw and started walking through the displays and racks of clothes, now firmly ignoring _both_ of them. She picked her way through the small section of long-sleeved shirts, blouses and turtlenecks that was probably what was left of their winter stock.

Carmen followed quickly at her heels, glancing at Loki and then quietly suggesting to Zoe, “Oh, those are out of season, miss. There are far more fashionable tops just over…” she trailed off under Zoe’s withering glare and took an involuntary step back. Zoe returned to browsing through the tops, trying to find something that didn’t seem like it would melt her in the summer heat or look completely ridiculous.

“She is quite...spirited.” Carmen said quietly to him, trying to regain her composure.

“I thought you could handle her,” he said softly - and pointedly.

She stiffened and straightened, giving him a nod. “Of course, sir.” She made her way back over to the tempestuous young woman, quickly sifting through the clothes to pick out those that seemed like the gentleman’s preference. She added a few more that seemed more the style of woman, based on what she’d seen from the boots, and approached the girl again. “Miss, perhaps these would be to your liking? I can bring you skirts and pants to go with them while you try them on.”

Zoe eyed the pile less than enthusiastically, but Carmen _had_ managed to pick up a few of the tops she’d been looking at. She took them with a small sigh. “Sure, but no skirts or shorts. Jeans, pants, and leggings only, okay?”

Carmen surreptitiously looked to Loki, who gave her a single nod of approval.  “Of course,” she said brightly to the young woman and wandered off to find some more. 

Zoe caught the look and leveled Loki with a glare.  In response, the godling winked and smirked. She marched to the dressing room, slamming the flimsy door in his face once they got there. “Stay out,” she growled. “And keep Carmen out when she gets here. If she walks in without asking me and waiting for an answer, I’m blaming _you_.”

“What will you do if I fail in my task?” he asked brightly.  He was not taking this seriously at all.

“Wait until you fall asleep and then castrate you,” she replied darkly and far too seriously for any man’s comfort.

“I assure, if you touch my balls, I will not be asleep for long.”  She heard his wicked grin.  “Nor will I be interested in sleep.”  Sex was a weakness for her, he’d noted; it was both an attraction and a source of consternation to her.

“You need to get laid,” she muttered in the changing room, not bothering to shout out a response to him. She fiddled with the laces on the dress, loosening them enough to make slipping the garment off easy, but decided to wait until Carmen came with the bottoms before taking it off. Loki was far too pleased with himself at the moment to have _any_ trust from her.

Carmen returned quickly, a colorful pile of tight pants and leggings in her arms. Loki clasped his hands behind his back and said sardonically, “I highly suggest knocking. She is in a _biting_ mood today.”

She nodded and juggled the clothes well enough to rap softly on the door. “Miss?”

Zoe emerged long enough to take the clothes. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. I’d suggest keeping _him_ occupied. He gets ridiculous when he’s bored.” The look on Carmen’s face was worth every aggravating moment up until then.

“I would have said ‘highly entertaining’ myself.”  Loki smirked at Carmen as she slipped by him again.

“I would agree with that,” she purred, and Loki gave her a look of pure disgust.  He hated it when women flirted with him because of his power.  It was a mockery that took all the pleasure of the experience from him.  Carmen paled slightly.  “I’ll be… over there.  I’ll come back when I see that she’s done.”

Moving away from the unpleasant man, Carmen comforted herself with thoughts that he could only pay for sex.  _Or gets them out of orphanages or something.  He doesn’t want a quality woman._   She felt better as she pushed garments around on the racks, trying to find more green things that the slut would bother to wear.

The green sweater she’d been considering twitched softly.  Alarmed, the saleswoman stepped back, just as a bloated brown rat dropped out of the bottom hem.  Carmen didn’t even think about sales etiquette or the rules for demeanour on the sales floor.  She screamed so loudly they heard it in footwear and then took off at a run for the employees only area. 

Seconds later, the rest of the sales staff and all the customers were doing likewise as more rodents and a few snakes crawled out of the merchandise and started to chase them around the store.

Zoe stumbled out of the changing room, barefoot again but now clad in skin-tight black leggings with a matching mini-skirt and an emerald green turtleneck. Her hair was mussed, sticking out in patches from where she’d hastily yanked the top down after the screaming had started. She watched the rats and snakes, her eyes wide at first, then narrowing. “Loki!” she hissed in frustration, searching the area for wherever the trickster was watching the chaos from.

“Yes?”  The call came from behind her and she spun as Loki leaned forward in the waiting chair, his expression too innocent to be real.

“You do realize I can’t actually _buy_ anything until they calm down? Which they’re not going to do while you’re playing Pied Piper!” She waved at the menagerie of pests, clearly unimpressed. “Do I need to buy you a coloring book or something to keep you entertained for fifteen minutes?”

“No, I assure you, I can amuse myself.”  Loki grinned and the creatures disappeared, crawling back into holes and corners.  “That outfit looks charming on you, Zoe.”

She sighed in relief, then tugged self-consciously at the hem of the shirt. “I’m almost done,” she grumbled and stalked back into the changing room. It only took a few more minutes for her to finish picking out two more outfits, but the store was now devoid of saleswomen and other customers. “And now we wait for pest control, gawkers, and panicking managers. Only the last can actually check us out, and they’re probably going to be too busy standing on tables and screaming like pansies.”

“How inefficient.”  Loki sighed as once again Midgard conspired to leave him without entertainment.  “I shall get bored again.”

“Heaven forbid.” She covered her eyes with a hand for a moment, then dropped the clothes into his arms. “Come on.” She wound her way back through the store until she found a check-out counter. Two of the terminals were password locked, but one was in the middle of a transaction. Zoe scanned in her clothes and ran the credit card. She circled the items on the store copy of the receipt that weren’t hers and added a note, _Sorry, he’s an ass when he’s bored._

“Are we done?” he asked, grabbing a bag half full of clothing, upending it, and shoving the ones she’d dumped in his arms into it.  Then he thrust the bag at her.

“I hope so.” She grabbed the bag from him, wanting to forestall another round of rats and snakes. “If I have to watch one more woman oogle you, I’m going to gag.”

Loki winced.  “I shall join you in vomiting.  These hags insist on throwing themselves at me.”  His lips curled.  “Disgusting.”

She did roll her eyes at that. “Yes, because god forbid someone find you attractive. That would just _ruin_ your whole ‘everyone-hates-me-I’m-gonna-go-be-emo’ vibe.”

“Women don’t find me attractive,” he snapped irritably.  “They find my knowledge attractive.  They find my brother attractive.  They find my crown attractive.”

Zoe stopped and stared at him. “Loki,” she said slowly, as if talking to a small child, “none of the women today know anything about you excepthow you look. And what’s wrong with finding intelligence attractive?”

“Not _intelligence_. Women find that abhorant unless it’s combined with the ability to hit something really hard.”  He shook his head.  “No, what they want is the magic my mother taught me, without paying her price.”

“Maybe women on Asgard,” Zoe insisted, “but not here. Most people on Earth don’t even _believe_ in magic, they don’t know you’re a prince, and at least some human women do actually favor a well developed mind over bulging biceps.” She wondered how much of this was Loki’s self-loathing and how much was actually real. _How could women on Asgard not find him attractive? Are they **blind**?_

“Are you saying that Midgard women would find someone like me compelling?” he asked incredulously.

“Well,” she held up a hand, counting off her points, “one woman gave you her number five minutes after meeting you and that Carmen chick was effectively eye-humping you through the store. Loki, by human standards, you’re _hot_.”

The godling studied her closely, trying to determine if she was mocking him.  “You’re not that good of a liar,” he muttered, “and I haven’t seen signs of mental disease beyond...well, in regards to this. By _all_ human standards or by _your_ human standards?”

She blushed took a half-step back from his scrutiny. She tried to shrug it off, but he was right, she _wasn’t_ that good of a liar. “Both, I guess? Definitely at least by Western standards."

Loki struggled to assimilate the words she’d said.  He’d believed one thing and now was being told another.  He was atypically silent as they walked back to Stark’s tower.  It wasn’t until they had reached the entrance that he finally looked at her and said, “Thank you for that information.  It will be most helpful to know that I can use my smile against Midgardian men and women going forward.”

Zoe winced. _Oh, perfect._


	23. Challenges

Happy drove the car into the garage as JARVIS immediately began to speak.  “Welcome home, Sir.  There are two people waiting to see you now.”

Tony made a face.  “JARVIS, I haven’t gotten in the building yet.  Who are they?”  Emma patted his shoulder lightly, concerned about her employer after their conversation at Sanctuary.  He seemed more stable now but she knew that Tony was a master at hiding his true feelings.  Happy drew the car up in front of the doors.

“Lawyers, Sir.  They are from Middlecrist & Roe, a large multinational firm that deals with business law.”

“Lawyers.  I hate lawyers.”  Tony sighed and turned to Emma as they climbed out of the parked car.   “Do me a favor.  Get everyone settled?”

“Of course-” Emma started but JARVIS spoke again.

“They have also requested Ms. Thompson’s presence in the meeting.”  

“Me?” Emma asked nervously.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tony grimaced again.  “Well, let’s see what they want.  Thor, big guy, I know you have a lot on your plate already-”

“Consider it done, friend.”  Tony’s shoulder disappeared under Thor’s hand as he gripped it gently. 

“Thanks.”  Tony gestured to Emma and they disappeared in the elevator, heading for the first floor.

Thor turned to the other people who had been relegated to his care.  Jane moved to his side, taking his hand with a sad smile.  Phil Coulson waited patiently for Thor to lead them to their destination.  It was the quietest member of his group that had Thor uneasy.  Bucky Barnes hadn’t spoken since Steve’s death; he moved like a man half-dead himself, his head hanging heavy on his body.  Thor had never seen a warrior so despondent.

He kept an eye on the man as they took the magical rooms to their floors.  JARVIS let them out at the floor where Loki and the others were staying.  There, Bucky did not get off.  “I want to be alone for a bit.”  His blue eyes were full of sorrow.  “I’ll be on the roof.”  The doors closed before Thor could think of anything to say to that.

JARVIS guided them to a room. Thor recognized it as a ‘living room’, which never made sense to him since the room wasn’t alive and people didn’t live in the room as much as sit around in it.  His brother was sitting on a couch, reading a sheaf of papers, while Verun sat cross-legged on a ‘love-seat’, another name he didn’t understand.  That one he intended to learn about after marriage, however.  Zoe was asleep on the same couch as his brother, though she was curled up on two cushions of it, leaving Loki one to sit on.  Thor found that interesting and promising; his brother was not prone to sharing.

“Loki.”  His soft call brought his brother’s head up and it hurt a little to see the disappointed frown on his face.   “How went your first night on Midgard?”

“I was bored when I wasn’t being assaulted by the residents.”  Loki’s lip curled in distaste.

“You deserved it.”  Verun looked up from the small device on her lap.  Thor recognized the internet on the miniature computer.  “You seemed to enjoy it, at times.”  Loki actually blushed at that, which Thor found amusing.  Before he could tease his brother about it, Verun asked, “Where is Bucky?”

“He is on the roof, Ms. Verun.”  JARVIS answered helpfully.

Verun frowned slightly and rose to her feet.  “I will go speak with him.  Pardon me.”

Zoe came to as Verun brushed past her, blinking and rubbing at her eyes. As she peered around the room, Coulson stepped forward.  Loki glanced at him, and then scowled, muttering under his breath.  Coulson ignored the godling as he said, “Ms. Satelle?  Are you alright?”

She glanced around the room, taking in the new arrivals. She nodded to Coulson, but gave him a confused look as she tucked a stray strand of white hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Who are you?”

He offered his hand as he smiled gently.  “I’m Phil Coulson, an agent of SHIELD.”

Her eyes darted to the papers in Loki’s hands, then to the annoyed look on the godling’s face. “You’re the agent that was watching me,” she said to Coulson. “The one that wrote most of the reports.” She wanted to add _and you’re supposed to be dead_ , but she figured that probably wasn’t something he’d want brought up.

Coulson watched her eyes dart to the papers and back, and his eyes narrowed.  “I’d heard you were fond of Loki but I’d be careful about that.  He has a tendency to stab people in the back.”

“Unsuccessfully, apparently.”  Loki smirked at the agent.

“Yeah, that didn’t stick, just like anything else you attempt to do.”  Coulson spoke mildly but his words twisted Loki’s face. 

“Enough.”  Thor spoke firmly, wondering if he was going to play peacekeeper between Loki and everyone else for the entirety of Loki’s stay on Midgard. 

“What are you reading?” Coulson asked Loki, eyeing the SHIELD logo at the top of the pages.

“Zoe’s file.”  Loki tossed a paper to the floor, on top of the other ones. 

Coulson glanced at Zoe but she didn’t seem to be worried.  He moved a bit closer to her and asked, “What happened to you?  I tried to look for you but matters got… out of hand.”

“I got kidnapped and experimented on by some group called HYDRA,” she said flatly. It was weird talking to someone who’d spent the majority of her life watching her like a creepy government-sponsored voyeur. She took a breath and got ahold of her temper before the room turned into a scene out of Poltergeist. “Apparently they knew I was telekinetic - can’t imagine how - and figured it’d be fun to make swiss cheese out of my head.”

Coulson flinched slightly.  “I’m sorry that SHIELD’s monitoring of you became the reason you were taken.  Please know that SHIELD meant only to undo the harm we’d accidentally done to you when your parents died.  If I could have prevented your capture, I would have.”

She looked away and for a moment the room was awkward silence. “It’s weird,” she said quietly. “I’ve spent my whole life alone, only I wasn’t. Just nobody would tell me.” She sighed and waved a hand at the print-outs. “And now everything about me is floating around on the internet. What a hell of a thing to come back to.”

“I can task some of our people to pulling your personal data from the web.”  Coulson smiled at her expression.  “I know a young lady who would _love_ to create a spider that will scrub out all references of you - beyond the normal ones.  You do need to have a public identity just to get along in the world.  Facebook, Twitter, all the important stuff.”  The last was added with a wry tone.

She gave a small shrug. “It’s been two years. Anyone that’s interested probably has their own copies by now.” She ran her fingers over her wrist nervously while staring at the floor. “Taking the pictures down would be nice, though.”

Coulson smiled tightly.  “When I said she’d make a spider to scrub out the references, I meant _all_ of the references.  That will take a while but the information on the web will be down sooner.”  He cleared his throat and added, “I’m afraid I have a bit more bad news.  We weren’t able to keep your lease in your old apartment.”

“You knew - of course you did. Uh, that’s okay. I didn’t expect anything to still be around after this long.” Her expression became pensive and she whispered, “Poor Treble.”

“Your cat? She’s being fostered by a retired SHIELD agent in L.A.”  Phil grinned at her expression and added, “And your personal items are in storage in Bakersfield, California.”

She smiled. It was tentative at first, because being spied on was _weird_ but, kidnapping aside, apparently there were some perks. “Thanks. That’s...that’s a big relief, to still have something left. It’ll be nice to play again, too.” Her smile became wistful, nostalgic.

“Play?” Loki butted into the conversation.

“I play the piano and a few other instruments,” she flashed him a bright smile, happy to talk about something she loved. “That’s what I did before I was kidnapped, for a living. I missed music as much as I missed sunlight.”

“I bet Stark has a piano somewhere in this building.”  Jane spoke up for the first time.  “He’s the kind of ostentatious person who would have a baby grand sitting in a corner for someone to dust.”  She gave a small wave to Zoe.  “I’m Jane Foster.”  She paused dramatically.  “Thor’s fiance.”

“Congratulations,” Zoe responded with the automatic social noises and smile, but her mind was on the piano. “Do you really think so? About the piano?”

“JARVIS?” Jane asked.

“Sir has a piano in the seventh floor conference room.  Would you like me to show you the way, Ms. Satelle?”

She nodded, a silly grin pasted on her face. “Yes, please!”

“Would you mind if we all came?” Jane asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Zoe chirped, practically skipping out of the room to follow JARVIS’ directions. She was aware that the others, even Loki, were trailing after her.

The AI led her to a magnificent room; it was clearly meant for large parties.  In the corner was a grand piano, sleek and black under the overhead lights.  When she touched the keys, the ivory was smooth and cool under her fingers.

She lingered over the large instrument, indulging in the feel of it under her hands. When she sat, it was with closed eyes; she placed her hands on the keys with a sigh. The notes came softly at first, cascading into Beethoven’s Fur Elise, a personal favorite. Her hands slid through the notes as if she’d spent the past two years practicing instead of locked in an underground cell. Her expression settled into a peaceful detachment as she played, erasing the lines of tension and fear that had been present since her rescue.

She was so lost in the music that It didn’t occur to her how odd her audience was.  When she glanced up after the third song, she found that Thor and Jane had taken seats on the floor, him serving as a chair back for her as she sat on his crossed legs.  They had an enviable quiet contentment in one another’s company. Coulson was still standing, his hands in his pockets.  He had a slight smile on his face, the one that people got when they knew they were hearing good music.  It was also tinged with sadness.

Loki leaned against the wall.  His expression was so bland she thought he was about to announce boredom, but he refrained from actually saying the dreaded words. 

It was their unseen observer who spoke next.  “Ms. Satelle, I have been recording these songs for Sir.  Given your skill, I believe that Sir would enjoy hearing it.  However, I know that you are sensitive to being monitored without your permission.  Do you wish me to erase the recordings I have currently made?”

She let the last notes of the piece fade and shook her head, smiling. “No, that’s fine, JARVIS. Music is meant to be shared. Mmm,” she mused, “how about something more modern?”

The song was several years old, of course, and it took Zoe singing the first line of lyrics for Jane and Phil to recognize a piano rendition of Taylor Swift’s _Eyes Open_. She had a good voice, light and well-trained, if not remastered into the electronic perfection of the song’s original singer. The lyrics seemed appropriate to her after all that had happened.

“I can’t believe you remember those songs after all the time…”  Jane trailed off, not sure how to say ‘stuck in prison’ without sounding callous.  “I can’t remember the lyrics to _Happy Birthday_ half the time.”

“That’s because you have more important things in your head,” Thor said softly, kissing her temple. 

Behind them, Loki rolled his eyes.  “I guess those of us who _can_ remember simple mortal songs have nothing of import in our heads,” he groused. 

Thor sighed deeply; he’d forgotten how _tiring_ his brother could be.  “I did not mean it that way, Loki.”

The dark-haired Aesir sneered.  “Yes, of course, we’ll forgive you for choosing the wrong words.  Saying exactly what you mean can be rather taxing, mentally.” 

“Are you two going to do this _all_ the time?”  Coulson glared at both of them.  “I’d rather hear Zoe play. If you don’t mind, Zoe.”

The white-haired woman chuckled. “I’m more intrigued by the idea that Loki actually knows some human music.” Her rainbow-colored eyes gleamed in amusement at the younger prince. “If it’s Britney Spears, I’ll eat my hat.”

“It is not.   Move off the bench, mortal.”  Loki stepped forward, waving for her to step away from the piano.  Bemused, Zoe got out of the way, and then he sat down and pressed a few keys.  Nodding to himself, he started to play.

It wasn’t on Zoe’s level; the music was much more simple than that.  It was a pretty song and his voice was fair; she suspected he’d had some training at some point.  It was also not in English.  When he finished, he straightened from the keyboard.

“Oh my god!”  Jane stared at the Invader of New York with her mouth slightly open.  “Can you do that?” she asked Thor.

“No.” 

“Oh.”  To Loki’s eternal delight, she sounded disappointed.  

“When did you learn to play, brother?” Thor asked.

“Mother taught me.”  There was a world of pain in his words as he stood up and moved away.  “She thought that mastering some old songs would help my focus in magic.  The songs that humans sang about us were simple enough.”

“I don’t remember any of that,” Thor replied, his brow furrowing.

“You were off hitting things very hard with a hammer, no doubt.”  Loki took his place on the wall again.

“It was lovely,” Zoe interjected before the brothers could start sniping at each other again, smiling at Loki. “Perhaps you could teach me the song sometime?”

The godling shrugged noncommittally.  “Perhaps.  It will be more difficult unless you know… Old Nordic.  Norse.  That was the language the songs were sung in.”

“I can handle a challenge,” she quipped back immediately.

Loki merely raised his eyebrow, while Coulson narrowed his eyes.  The agent didn’t like the familiarity he saw brewing between the godling and his former ward.


	24. Regards

Verun found her way back to the roof with only a little help from the wight of the building.  As she reached for the curious bar that she needed to push to open the door, JARVIS said, “Mr. Barnes is very close to the edge of the building.  Do I need to alert Sir?”

“I believe that I can handle the situation.”  Verun wasn’t sure why the Iron Man needed to be concerned about Bucky’s choices.  She wasn’t sure why she was concerned, only that she wanted to know him better.  The wind pushed at her as she exited the building and Verun raised her head against the morning sun, looking for Bucky.  He stood on the edge of the tower, turning as the door opened. 

Bucky wondered who would bother him up here as he spun to face them, composing himself to indifference.  The last thing he needed was someone stopping him. To his shock, it was Verun.

He blinked and swallowed, feeling his world shift.  She wore a green dress that didn’t hide her curves like her fur cloak had yesterday, and for the first time in a _long_ time, he felt a stirring in his heart.  It was quickly swamped by the bleakness that also resided there.  “Verun?  Weren’t you going home to Vanaheim?”

“I was.  Odin bid me return.”  The Vanir walked toward him and Bucky found himself stepping a few paces forward as well.  “I am to watch Loki.”

“Oh, he’s back too?  I thought he was crazy or something.” Bucky watched the wind snap and yank her dark hair, wishing he could sink his fingers into it. “Do you want to go inside? The wind is awful fierce up here.”

“Will you come in with me?” she asked, holding out her hand and smiling.  Bucky glanced behind him at the ledge, and Verun didn’t need mind magic to know his thoughts. “You can come back outside. The ledge will wait for you.”

Bucky took her hand and let her lead him inside. She was right. He could finish this later.

They sat together on the steps just inside the door, out of the wind but close to the roof. Verun left her hand in Bucky’s watching as his thumb brushed over the embroidery on her cuff. “Why did you ask me to wait one day?” he asked her softly.

Verun remained silent for a moment. “To see if you would wait if I asked.”

Bucky chuckled a little. “Seeing if I’ll jump for a pretty lady?”

“Not jump is perhaps more correct,” the Vanir said with a little smile.  “In truth, I wanted to see if you had regard for me, as I did for you.”

Bucky felt his heart start to pound harder. “Regard?” His voice roughened slightly. “Is that anything like havin’ a favorite gal?”

Her smile widened and Bucky felt himself answering with a smaller one.  “Perhaps.”

A momentary thought stole away that smile. “If you regarded me,” he asked, “why didn’t you stop me? Or try to talk me out of it?”

“You made your choice.” Verun gazed at him with her large green eyes, her expression somber. “Why should I try to take away what you wanted?”

“Don’t you- your people?  Don’t they stop suicides?” It was the first time he’d said the words aloud. Hearing himself admit, even obliquely, that he’d planned to kill himself made him feel a little ashamed.  Steve would slug him in the jaw for even thinking it but this beautiful woman who ‘regarded’ him wouldn’t try to stop him.

Her other hand joined the first, her fingers tracing the visible tendons, veins, and scars on his skin. “The Vanir believe that when a person chooses to leave life, it is their choice. Why would you keep a man sick and infirm in his bed, where he will be a burden to his family? Why make a woman whose mind has started to erode endure the loss of self? There is a time to die, Bucky.”  Her fingers tightened around his. Her voice came in a soft hopeful whisper. “There is a time to live, as well. That is a choice that each person makes for themselves.”

His throat closed and Bucky thought he might cry. He gazed at her, trying to understand his feelings. “I don’t want to die,” he whispered, “but without Steve, how can I go on? He was the good one, Verun. He was the best of me.”

“He was a good man but you are too. You love him. You miss him. That is understandable and normal.” Her fingers stopped their paths over his skin and instead flattened over them, pressing to him comfortingly. Bucky shook his head but she reached up and caught his face.  Almost against his will, he leaned forward until his forehead rested on her shoulder. She hugged him to her and his arms curled around her waist, taking the comfort she offered. “Would you like to see how he saw you?”

Bucky shivered with a mixture of hope and fear. He’d known that Steve had always treated him with more goodwill than he deserved but deep inside, Bucky knew that his friend had been disappointed in him.  How could Steve not when he compared Bucky to himself? Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded.

Verun tilted her head to rest against Bucky’s closing her eyes and sharing the final memories of Steve Rogers with his friend. She felt them as they flowed through her, slipping from her mind to his as easily as words slipped from the tongue. These images and emotions were pure and true, untainted by the incomplete communication of words.

Bucky gasped as he saw his face in his own thoughts but he’d never pictured himself like this. His image grinned widely, happy like he’d been back in the days before the war, but it was his older face - his post-Winter Soldier face. Hope and love came with the image, emotions that had remained unchanged since they were both six years old. There were other feelings there, too like happiness, but one emotion started the tears again.

Forgiveness. Steve had forgiven him for everything, even the things that Bucky couldn’t forgive.

Bucky wasn’t sure how long he sobbed into Verun’s shoulder, turning the summer green of the material to a wet emerald. All he knew was that she held him through it, the anchor in the storm of his emotions. When he stopped, he said, “I want to go on. I don’t. . . I can’t see _how_ I can stomach doing it. Stepping into his shoes. Wearing his costume. I don’t deserve the honor.”

“I will help.” Verun’s simple pledge drew Bucky’s eyes up to her own again. “I can draw off your pain enough so that you can function. Your emotional malaise is crippling. You have lost and suffered much, and being so impaired is not your fault.” Even as she spoke, Bucky felt the worst of his grief slipping away. Her voice was thick with sorrow - his sorrow and sorrow _for_ him - as she whispered, “So much pain in your short life. A lesser person would have crumbled under the weight already.”

Bucky shook his head in denial of her words even as he soaked up the comfort of them. He hugged her a little closer, breathing in her scent. _I could stay here forever-_

JARVIS interrupted the moment. “Ms. Verun, Mr. Bucky, Sir is calling for you to assemble in the lowest level of the building. There is an emergency and he is forced to evacuate.”


	25. Hero

The doors closed quietly with a soft ding. Tony reached forward and pressed the button for the main level of the tower and the elevator began to move, carrying the two of them upstairs. It was the first time she’d been alone with Tony all day, and Emma was trying her best to act nonchalant.

“Are- are you doing okay, Tony?” she finally asked, glancing over at him.

“Yeah.” He glanced at her. “Do I not look okay?  Got something in my teeth?”

She blinked at him, trying to figure out if he was being serious or not. “What? You look fine, Tony. I meant - you know - after last night.”

“Ah.” He glanced away from her, his fingers going to fiddle with the knot on his tie. “Last night. Yes. I’m okay. The funeral was fine.”

“Yes, but--” she started, but then she paused, her expression confused.

“But?” Tony frowned as she faltered, suspicion on his face. A moment later, he grimaced and said, “Yes, I know I got drunk. Did I do anything embarrassing? I can’t imagine I did. Clint would have never let me leave Sanctuary without saying something about flashing the room or starting a Jello-fight with Darcy.”

Realization dawned, and she fought back a sudden feeling of nausea. The elevator door dinged open, revealing the well-decorated lobby of Avengers’ Tower. The decoy receptionist smiled brightly at them as they stepped out, gesturing down the hall. “Welcome back, sir. Your guests are waiting for you down the hall, in Conference Room 1C.”

He nodded at her even as he hurried to catch up with Emma, who’d already started moving in that direction.  “Emma?” He sounded a bit worried now, frowning as he caught up with her. “Emma, what happened? Did I do something really stupid, such as making out with Thor? I sometimes wonder about him, with the fabulous cape and all.”

“N-no,” she replied, her voice a bit unsteady. She straightened her spine and attempted to force herself to sound a bit more confident, but without much success. She mostly came across as forced, her voice a bit high pitched. “No, you didn’t, not really. I mean- you got into a fight with Clint, broke some bottles of booze. That’s all. I just wanted to make sure you were . . . okay,” she finished lamely.

“Oh, then that’s all right.” Tony cleared his throat and visibly composed himself, seeming obvious to Emma’s discomfort. “Because you’re acting like I did something monumentally asinine and we can’t have that, can we? The stock prices might drop again.” He reached out and opened the door for her, gesturing for her to go first.

She stared for a moment, hesitating at the door. _Monumentally stupid. Like having sex with a man too drunk to even remember it the next morning. No, Tony - that wasn’t you._

“Right,” she murmured, forcing a small laugh. “We can’t have that.”

A man and a woman waited for them inside the room. He was young and fox-faced, with short, dark hair; his pinched features giving him a vaguely predatory appearance. The woman had steel-gray hair set in a professional style. Her suit was a pleasing royal blue, a sharp contrast to her partner’s black suit and Tony’s black leather chairs. Both rose as Tony and Emma entered the room.

“Mr. Stark? I’m Hannah Middlecrist.” The woman extended her hand to shake.

Tony made a show of looking closely at her hand before taking it. “Sorry, I always check for teeth when dealing with lawyers. Is this the Roe of your firm?”

“No, I’m Daniel Varn, a junior partner.” He held out his hand and grinned. “I’ll save you the trouble - no teeth.”

“Whenever a lawyer says that, Emma, you check twice.” Despite his words, the billionaire shook his hand.

Middlecrist had focused on Emma, the gaze in her gray eyes not unlike a laser. “Emma _Thompson?_ ”

“Yes, that’s me,” Emma replied, looking a bit concerned. “We were informed that you asked for my presence as well. Is there something wrong?”

“Since you’re here, nothing is wrong.” The woman turned to Varn and held out her hand.  He placed a folded mass of blue papers in it and she gave it to Emma, who proceeded to open them up and begin scanning them.

“Why are you serving my employee with a warrant?” Tony asked, going tense next to Emma.

“It’s a court order.” Middlecrist stared at her. “To turn over the nanites.”

Emma looked up at the woman as if she were a bit of an idiot. “Is this some kind of joke? I can’t just hand them over, extraction is impossible. We’ve tried.”

“ _You_ have tried.” The newcomer to the conversation had slipped into the room behind Tony and Emma, smirking at them.  Justin Hammer stood with his hands in his pockets, looking way too pleased with himself. “You have failed because I created them. I can get them out of her.”

“You have trouble creating shit after a hearty meal.” Tony glared at his sometimes competition, shifting so that the other man wasn’t at his back. “Those nanites came from _space_.”

“So _you_ say. The D.O.J. says otherwise.” Hammer nodded at his attack-lawyers. “That court order grants me the right to claim the nanites, even if I have to detain the woman in illegal possession of them.  Go on.  Read the order.”

“Illegal possession? Are you out of your mind?”, Emma replied, her voice rising an octave in pitch. Tony recognized it as fear even as she opened the letter again, her eyes scanning through it a bit more carefully. She swallowed softly, and she shook her head. “You can’t do this. You’re insane. Tony, he can’t do this, can he?”

“He can,” Justin interjected. “Hannah, please explain to them what the legal rights are at this moment.”

“The Department of Justice is backing us on this. With the current status of martial law, we have the might of the U.S. Army at our disposal.” Middlecrist stood tall and straight with her hands folded in front of her. “I think that Mr. Stark should consider the ramifications of armed resistance in the middle of New York City.”

“You’re full of shit, Hammer. If you’re looking to replicate them, it’s never gonna happen,” Tony replied angrily. “The nanites have integrated themselves into Emma’s DNA, there’s no way to separate them out. If you think I’m going to let you come in here, wave around a piece of paper, and kidnap Emma with it you’re more stupid than I gave you credit for.”

“This isn’t a matter of letting, Stark.” Hammer leaned forward. “It’s a done deal. Come on, Ms. Thompson, make it easy on yourself and your boss.”

He tried to grab hold of her upper arm but she jerked away from him, taking a step back. “No! I’m not going anywhere with you! I will not be locked in a cage and poked and prodded until you can figure out how to replicate me or something!”

“You’re free to let the door hit you on the way out, too.” Stark waved toward the door.  “You and your attack-piranha. Get out of my building.”

“You’re making a mistake, Stark,” Hammer warned. Middlecrist, looking unperturbed, gestured for Varn to leave as she picked up her briefcase. “Not even you can defy the U.S. Government.”

“Watch me,” Tony replied as they left the room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Emma turned to Tony. She was afraid and it showed, her eyes were wide with fear and disbelief.

“This is insane,” she repeated now that they were gone. The feeling of dread she was feeling in the pit of her stomach grew. The very government she had grown up watching her parents serve, that she had joined SHIELD to help protect, was turning against her. “He’s psychotic. Oh my god, what do I do now, Tony? I’m a fugitive!”

“But you’re not alone.” Tony took her hand, giving her a squeeze. “JARVIS, Lifeboat procedures. Everyone I came with today and all the strays we’ve picked up.”

“Yes, Sir. Does that include Loki?”

Tony grimaced. “Only because Shakespeare will cry if I leave his brother behind.” He turned to Emma. “You have five minutes to grab anything of value to you.”

She nodded, hesitating for a brief moment before hurrying over to the desktop in the corner of the conference room. “JARVIS, can you pull all of my personal data and research regarding the nanites from my laptop, back them up yourself, and transfer them in here? I’d like to have a hard copy, just in case.”

“Of course, Ms. Thompson. That data is transferring over as we speak.”

As the A.I. was working on the transfer, Emma dug around in a desk drawer until she found a random flash drive, not really caring what else was on it. Hands shaking slightly, she stuck it into the USB port of the computer and watched as the file transferred over to the storage drive. As soon as it was done, she pulled it out and tucked it down into the front of her uniform, concealing it in her bra. Tony arched a brow at her appreciatively and she glared back, looking more annoyed at his lecherousness than usual. He chalked it up to the stress of the situation, and gestured towards the door. “If that’s it, let’s go. The others should be on their way.”

She nodded, and they hurried out of the conference room towards the elevator. He hit the button for the bottom floor of the garage, and they began the descent downwards.

They were the first into the basement, and alone again. Tony looked at her speculatively as he started to strip off his jacket - rather like he had last night. “So. What did I do?”

She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head to chase away the image. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Last night. You’re angry at what I did.” Tony sighed imperceptibly as he yanked his tie loose. “How can I apologize with empty, hollow words if I don’t know what I’ve done?”

Her face had started to soften, but then he got flippant again and her irritation returned, contradicting her words. “You have nothing to apologize for, Tony. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh. Then what did _you_ do?” Tony raised an eyebrow as she turned to him, surprised. “Seriously, something is going on and it’s bothering me.”

“Oh, is it?” she snipped, eyes flashing. “Cause what’s bothering _me_ at the moment is the fact that the United States military is on it’s way to drag me out of here and, I don’t know - throw me in Guantanamo or something!”

“Relax, not gonna happen.” Tony couldn’t be more cavalier about this moment if he’d produced a blow up doll from his pocket. “I told you, I’ve got it covered.”

“Great. Glad to hear it.” She met his gaze in a stare down, and after a moment she parted her lips and it looked like she was about to speak. Then the elevator door dinged, and the group from the piano room stepped out into the garage.

“Tony, my friend. What is this emergency?” Thor asked, stepping forward with Jane, a concerned look on his face.

“Hammer is being a cock-face and trying to legally kidnap Emma. I’m not okay with that, so now I’m in violation of the law.” He made a face and muttered, “JARVIS, let’s go with sweet sixty-nine.”

“What?” Emma asked nervously, just before pieces of armor zipped past her to snap to Tony’s body.

“Suit Sixty-Nine, third version of a series of suits named for--”

She cut him off with a gesture, and a roll of the eyes. “Don’t bother, I can guess.”

“Route Sixty-Six, you filthy-minded young lady.” He grinned lecherously. “It’s my travelin’ suit. Comes with a little pouch for condoms and everything.”

“Ugh.” Jane growled. “Really, Stark?”

“Don’t ask what you don’t _really_ want an answer to,” Emma quipped at Jane with an exasperated expression in Tony’s direction.

Thor’s fiance rolled her eyes, just as the second elevator opened and disgorged Verun and Bucky. The former had her pack slung over her shoulder and her knife at her waist again. “Where is our foe?” she asked briskly.

“On their way,” Emma replied, gesturing vaguely upwards. “But we’re not fighting, we’re running. One of Tony’s competitors has somehow managed to get a court order declaring that he owns the nanites that have fused with my DNA, and that I hand them over. Since that’s physically impossible, they’re authorized to just take me instead. Because the U.S. is under martial law right now, they’re on their way with the full power of the military to back them up, and that makes for a lot of collateral damage.”

Verun gazed at her without comprehension. “I understood ‘run’.”

“As did I, sister Vanir,” Thor rumbled. “But I trust Emma and Tony. If they say to run, then that is the best course of action.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Bucky murmured in her ear, “this is technically my world and I didn’t understand half of what she said either.”

“Excellent,” Tony replied, motioning for them to follow. “We can give you the more detailed synopsis later.” He motioned for them to follow, leading them deeper into the garage. They reached a metal door marked “Utility Closet” in faded letters, locked with a small but simple numbered keypad lock. Tony punched in several numbers, and opened the door. Instead of mops, brooms, or light bulbs there was a metal staircase that led downwards. Tony began to descend it, the metal of his suit clanging against the steps and echoing through the passage. Emma was right behind him, with everyone else hot on their heels.

Finally, after several flights they reached another metal door. Tony opened it and peered outside, opening the door all the way after a minute. The stairwell had taken them down to the New York subway system, and emerged in a long stretch of tunnel. They were on one of the narrow maintenance paths for emergencies, and Tony gestured for them to continue following. They made their way down the walkway for awhile before they reached an intersection, then veered off in another direction and followed it for a long time. They encountered at least two more splits before they reached their destination, a bricked-off dead end that was so deep down it didn’t even have any graffiti on the walls.

“What is this place?” Thor asked, curious as always about Midgard and it’s many varied environments.

“It’s the subway,” Jane replied. “A tunnel system for transporting people around the city. Speaking of which, aren’t you afraid we’ll get spotted, Stark?”

“No, this is an older section of the subway. It’s been closed off for over twenty years after being declared unsafe for the vibrations of the trains,” he replied, running his hand along the wall carefully as if searching for something. “It took a minor seismic tremor back in the seventies for them to realize it was an at-risk area, they lost a chunk of tunnel just past that wall.” Finally he stopped, his hand wrapping around a section of pipe. He twisted it and then slid it up, revealing it to be fake. Underneath the veneer of rusted metal, there was a high-tech cylindrical tube, made of metal and concealing a retinal scanner. Tony leaned close enough for it to get a positive reading, and suddenly a chunk of the wall swung open into a dark passage. It smelled natural and earthy, and as they stepped in the walls felt cool and rocky to the touch. He reached over and grabbed an LED lantern hanging from the wall, and flipped it on. It wasn’t much, but it illuminated the passage ahead of them enough to keep them from tripping over anything on their way down.

“It’ll open up in a bit. Hope nobody’s claustrophobic,” he quipped, heading down.

They made their way down into the caverns, Tony’s suit and lamp illuminating their way. Time became muddled underground, without the noise of New York or the change of daylight to indicate it’s passing, but a glance at a watch or phone indicated that they’d been underground now for a couple hours. The confined tunnels gave way to larger spaces, and Tony led them through a couple of cavernous intersections. After a while they were able to hear the distant sound of water, and eventually they reached another apparent dead end in a surprisingly large natural cavern. Rock formations jutted up from the ground and hung down from the ceiling, looking as if they were ready to impale an unobservant spelunker. They appeared to have finally reached the water table though, for occupying a large corner of the cavern was an underground pond.

There was a shed in a corner of the cavern that had several dozen SCUBA suits and air tanks stored in it; Tony began handing them out and giving basic instructions on how to use them. “We’ve got a ways to go underwater, so stick close. The suits have wrist-mounted lights on them. Grab a buddy and don’t wander off while we’re under.”

Zoe took one of the smaller suits with shaking hands. She’d already spent most of the trip fighting down the double panic of fleeing somewhere and fleeing somewhere _underground_. Now she was going to have to hope she figured out diving on fly? _Not how I expected today to go. But then, there hasn’t been normal for me for years._

“Here,” Loki said, plucking the suit out of her hands and holding it for her to climb into. She shucked off her shoes and put them in one of the watertight sacks that had been with the suits. “This isn’t confinement,” he said quietly as he helped her into the skin-tight outfit, his voice right next to her ear. “This is freedom.” His hands ran lightly up her sides and he chuckled darkly at her blush. “And _fun_.”

Coulson’s glare could have melted stone, but Verun stepped in before the human started a fight they couldn’t afford just now. “Object and it will only encourage him,” she said stoically.

He clenched his fists, but nodded and pulled his own suit on in angry, jerky movements. Tony gave Phil a wink and grabbed one of the larger suits, making a small nick in the back of the headcovering before shoving it at Loki. It was petty but, to quote Reindeer Games, it was also _fun_.

The swim through the underground lake was cold and quiet, but eerily beautiful as well. Mineral deposits along the walls of the caves cast rippling rainbows into the crystal clear waters when their flashlights shone on them and strange colored fish and other small aquatic creatures darted around them, too unfamiliar with humanity to know to fear these temporary invaders. The swim took nearly an hour before the group resurfaced in another large cavern.

Without hesitation, Stark made his way over to a pile of collapsed rocks at one end of the cave and grabbed onto the largest one. With the ease of strength that only the Iron Man suit could have provided him he pushed it to the side, exposing an opening concealed by the rubble. He stepped into the small area, no bigger than the size of a closet, and they could hear the sound of electronic beeps, followed by the metallic thunk of a door swinging open.

“Alright, fellow fugitives, in we go.” He gestured to the opening, and waited for the others to make their way in before following them. One by one they stepped out of the cavern and through the door. On the other side was a long, straight tunnel carved from the rock that stretched forward further than they eye could see, and wide enough across to accommodate at least three large vehicles. Along one side of the tunnel ran a Maglev, a sleek train that uses magnetic levitation for propulsion and was capable of traveling at very high speeds. The one in this tunnel was several cars long and looked capable of carrying a fair amount of people. The walls and ceiling were perfectly smooth, the ground flat and even beneath their feet. Powerful LED lights hung from wires in the ceiling every twenty feet or so, efficiently illuminating the interior of the tunnel until they disappeared far into the distance.

Behind them, Tony shifted the stone back into place and then stepped through the metal door. He swung it closed with a loud clang that echoed down the tunnel’s distance for several seconds, and then with his back to them he typed a code into the keypad, locking it behind them. It beeped in affirmation and they heard the sound of the heavy metal lock sliding into place.


	26. Pressure Points

Zoe changed back into her dry clothes as soon as she could after they boarded the train, and like most of the others, she also wrapped herself in one of the warm fleece blankets. The SCUBA outfits had helped, but the cave water had been cold. _First Tibet, now freezing caves under New York. Screw replacing my clothes, I need a waterproof coat at this rate._

The group settled out into their natural mini-cliques: Emma, Tony, and Phil were sitting together talking quietly, no doubt about Hammer’s attempt at legalized kidnapping. Jane and Thor were on a bench, her wrapped in a blanket as well and curled up against her fiance. Bucky had dropped into a seat the moment they’d gotten on the train and was already asleep - a soldier’s penchant for sleeping when and where you could, no matter the circumstances. Verun was still a compartment over, changing out of the skin-tight body suit and back into her own clothes. For a moment she couldn’t find the last member of little group and her heart skipped a beat - Loki on the loose at this point seemed like a bad idea and likely to send everyone else into a riot to go find him before invaded another city or something. _It’s probably not a good sign when you panic because if you can’t see him, you don’t know what he’s up to._ She let out a small chuckle, _You know, like with toddlers._

“What’s so funny?” Loki dropped into the seat next to her, looking put out. His hair hung in damp strands from a leak in his wetsuit hood. “ _Nothing_ about this appalling situation is funny.”

She looked up at him, searching for an explanation that wouldn’t leave her with an enraged godling on a suddenly very cramped mag-lev. “I’m back down to one set of clothes,” she improvised. “We traumatized an entire department store this morning for no good reason.”

Loki sulked in the chair next to her. “Child’s play. It hardly makes up for the horrid trip we just had to endure, all because of some Midgardians and some law they have.”

“Well, not to put a fine point on it, but those Midgardians and their law apparently have a large number of Iron Man suits on their side. More than enough to knock Mr. Stark, your brother, your sister, _and_ you around if we’d just sat there and waited for them to come after Emma.” She shrugged. “I guess if that’s an entertaining afternoon for you . . .”

He sighed and crossed his legs, his foot bouncing for a moment.  “I’m bored,” he announced, his green eyes flicking to her.

Her eyes went wide in panic. “Uh uh. No way. I am way too fricking _cold_ to deal with you being bored right now.”

He leaned in close, his voice dropping. “I could warm you.”

“I am going to strangle you with my blanket,” she declared levely, knowing her pale skin would be advertising her blush to everyone in the car. “Slowly. With relish. Just as soon as it stops being arctic in here.”

“I don’t think I enjoy that kind of foreplay,” Loki said, his eyes glinting evilly.

She gave him a bright fake smile. “Well, you never know until you try, right?”

“Is that an offer?” Loki grinned.

“To strangle you with my blanket?” She matched him tooth for tooth. “How could I resist?”

At the end of the compartment, the door opened and Verun entered the room. Her long hair swayed behind her as she made her way carefully forward. She paused long enough to tuck a blanket around Bucky before moving to sit across from Zoe. “I have been considering your situation, Zoe. Do you have a moment to speak on it?”

The topic instantly sobered the young woman and she shrunk a little into the comfort of her own blanket. She nodded, chewing at her lip in nervousness. “Yeah, sure.”

“You are deliberately rewriting your memories to protect your psyche, which means it is vulnerable to attacks, either from yourself or outside forces.” Verun watched Zoe carefully, waiting for the tell-tale signs of agitation from the mortal. “To combat this, we must strengthen your psyche. Do you understand?”

“Uh, sorta. This isn’t going to involve anything like that staff, right? That’s what Dr. Sadistic kept telling me, that it was supposedly making my mind - my power - stronger.” She pulled the blanket a little tighter around her, but the red in her cheeks was now more from anger than embarrassment. “She was universally full of bullshit.”

“I would suggest multiple angles of attack.” Verun folded her hands in her lap, the image of serenity. “First, mediation. Second, physical exercise to strengthen your body. Third, combat training. Together, in _time_ ,” the last was stated with a pointed look at Loki, “you will heal.”

Zoe made a face. “I tried learning how to meditate when I was in college. I just kept getting bored and falling asleep. And I do exercise. Or did. Pilates and swimming, usually. Sometimes running.” She didn’t say anything about the combat training; it made her nervous - or excited. She couldn’t tell which and that made her even more nervous.

“I hope this does not offend, but your body is in weakened state due to your imprisonment.” Verun’s voice was free of judgment or inflection. “We will build you up again.”

“I can help with the combat training,” Loki offered suddenly.

“Anything to keep you from being _bored_ ,” Zoe agreed quickly, her tone half teasing and half relieved.

“Oh, did you want to start now?” Verun asked, perking up slightly.

Zoe blinked and looked around and gave Verun an incredulous look. “On a train?”

“Will you never fight on a train?” the woman asked levely. “The better question: do you wish to start now or risk my. . .” Her voice faltered as she glanced at Loki uneasily. “Risk my brother’s boredom?”

Zoe stood up, shedding her blanket and managing to shiver only a little bit. “Right. I think I’d prefer combat training over being swarmed with rats and snakes, so now it is.” She gave Loki an arch look and gestured vaguely towards the other compartments of the mag-lev. “Well? Come on. Watching me fall on my ass over and over again should have _some_ entertainment value for you.”

“Oh, I agree totally.” Loki stood smoothly, his suit falling into place perfectly. His wicked grin warmed Zoe a bit more as he started to stalk toward the car Verun had just vacated. Shaking her head with the slightest hint of exasperation, Verun followed him and Zoe was just behind her.

The others watched them go but didn’t say anything. Those that cared were starting to get used to how the musician had glommed onto the Asgardian, so only Phil watched their progress with worried eyes.

In the next compartment, there were fewer chairs and more open space.  The Vanir stepped into the middle of the space and asked, “Have you had any training?”

“A self-defense class in college, but that’s it. Before I was kidnapped, I’d never really even been around fighting, much less involved in any.” She’d seen plenty of the after affects of violence growing up, but even when she’d been around other children, they’d all been too sick to get into any kind of fight. She smiled weakly, feeling nervous now. “I was pretty crap at throwing punches, but I did okay with sweeps and blocks.”

“Very well. Show me.” Verun strengthened her stance slightly. “Or attack Loki, I care not.”

Zoe looked between the two of them, hesitating while she tried to figure out which was scarier: attacking Verun, who looked ready for it, or Loki, who was as temperamental as a teenage girl. As the hesitation continued, Zoe flushed and fidgeted. “Um . . . I have no idea what to do,” she finally admitted.

Verun chuckled. “Very well.” The Vanir woman stepped forward and tried a simple, straight punch at Zoe’s nose.

The girl did dodge, though slower than would have done her any good had Verun been serious in her attack. She swept an arm up, brushing Verun’s fist to the side; the movement was smooth, the product of at least a little muscle memory.

“Good.” As she spoke, Verun stepped back and tried another attack, a slightly faster attempt to grab her upper arms.

The Vanir woman was able to grab her arms, but Zoe managed to switch from a block to a sort of shimmying back-step that slid her arms out of Verun’s hands. The maneuver was again too slow and the awkward way it was executed left Zoe vulnerable to dozens of follow-up moves, but again, it wasn’t bad - for a small child’s worth of training on Vanahiem, at least.

One of the follow up moves was from behind; her backwards shuffle had put her too close to the bundle of mischievousness that was Loki. He slipped soundlessly forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. “What now?” he whispered in her ear.

There was a difference between trying to remember training and panicking. One required thought and the other was pure adrenaline instinct. Zoe had been trained for self-defense: for men to grab at her, not for them to stand in front of her and calmly throw a punch. When HYDRA had taken her they’d darted her with a tranquilizer at the door of her hotel room in Prague. She’d never had a chance to fight back. When Loki snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, her body remembered the SING training from her class long before her mind could catch up with the fact that it was just Loki being Loki.

Her elbow hit him squarely in the sternum, give or take a fair amount of padding from his armor. The stomp to his instep was even mildly painful, or possibly just startling. The shot to the nose, however, had a definite bit of sting to it, as even gods had weak points. He did manage to catch her fist before she made it to the ‘groin’ letter of the acronym, if just out of pure male self-preservation.

“Oo, so close,” he purred, holding her hand loosely in his. Zoe noted that he had warm hands. “But I wasn’t sleeping. Though I find myself uninterested in sleep regardless of the lack of contact.”

Zoe flushed crimson and tried to pull away from him, but Loki was far too amused to let her be that easily. Verun took pity after a moment and said, “From this position, you are in grave danger. You should attempt pressure point application.” The otherworldly woman frowned. “I’m not sure where those are on humans. I shall ask Bucky.” Her green eyes filled with sudden mischief and her relationship to Loki was much more obvious. She grabbed Loki’s arm and said, “On a Jotun, Vanir, or Asgardian, they are here.” Her slim fingers dug into Loki’s wrist and he released Zoe’s hand with a hiss of pain.

Zoe knew better than to laugh. She’d only been around Loki for a few days, but she was a quick learner. That, however, did not stop the spread of a particularly evil grin as she innocently informed Verun. “Oh, I couldn’t really see that from here. Show me again?”

Verun reached for Loki’s hand but he pulled away from Zoe and attempted to grab Verun’s arm. The Vanir women kept out of his reach, even as she tried to grab at him. For the next several minutes Zoe watched silently as the twin siblings wrangled for possession of each other’s wrists. _Man, I need some popcorn._

The dance of the two trained warriors was something to watch; the fact that both of them were movie-worthy attractive and this was taking place on an underground mag-lev in a secret tunnel to a hidden city made the entire display all the more surreal. She managed to slip out of the field of combat, taking up one of the seats on the edge of the open area and waiting for one or the other of them to emerge the victor.

Loki finally managed to put Verun in head lock - just before he slumped and went limp. With a growl, the Vanir woman pushed herself to her feet. “I cannot believe how long it took to close his mind. Well, perhaps I should believe, given his teacher.” Verun was panting as she straightened her dress and turned to Zoe. “We should get more done without him interfering.”

“You do know he’s going to murderate you lots when he wakes up, right?” Zoe asked with saucer-sized eyes.

Verun sighed. “Perhaps. He is a better fighter than I, however. That was the only way to win.”

“You could have _let_ him win,” Zoe started to say, only to stop and amend, “or not,” when Verun gave her a haughty glance.

“He should take pride in how long it took to penetrate his mental defenses.” The Vanir finger-combed her tousled hair straight. “It was very impressive for one not trained in my discipline.”

“Somehow, I don’t think he’s gonna see it that way.” Zoe looked over the fallen prince sprawled out across the middle of the car, then shrugged. “So . . . are we just going to practice around him? What if we trip on him?”

Verun sighed and stepped to him, poking him in the shoulder. “Wake up, Loki.” The prince started to stir. At Zoe’s look, she shrugged and said, “He would awaken soon anyway.”

Zoe positioned herself strategically behind Loki’s twin, letting the Vanir woman bear the brunt of any anger from Loki. _It’s not cowardice, it is sound strategic **survival**_.

The prince rolled to his feet easily, his eyes narrowed. “Typical Vanir treachery.”

“The Aesir only complain about Vanir treachery when it used against them.” Verun crossed her arms. “When it is part of Aesir battle strategy, they laud it. Besides, _you_ are Vanir.”

That set Loki back for a moment; his eyes narrowed as he glared at Verun. “I was raised Aesir-”

“Much to your own irritation. You could learn much from your mother’s people.”

“Please.” He sneered sarcastically and spread his arms. “Enlighten me.”

Verun smirked. “Later, when we are done with training. Or when Zoe is too tired to move.”

That moment came with humiliating speed: fifteen minutes after they started in earnest, she found herself tripped to the floor and didn’t rise. “I give. I yield.” The human girl lay on her back, her white hair forming a halo around her head.

“If you do that to an enemy, you wind up dead,” Verun said with a raised eyebrow, but she stepped back and lowered her hands.

“Or worse,” Loki added with inappropriate cheer.

“Then kill me. Seriously.” Zoe closed her eyes. “Just end my misery.”

Loki lay down suddenly, resting his head on her stomach. When she opened her eyes to glare at him, he gave her a wicked grin. “You yielded,” he reminded her.

“Get off her, jotun.” Verun’s voice held a mixture of irritation and mockery, and Loki bound to his feet, pride in his eyes. “She doesn’t welcome your advances.”

“My _advances_ to her are none of your business,” he snapped.

“They are when your actions cause mental distress, or have you forgotten?” she replied coolly.

“That had nothing to do with sex!” Loki protested sharply.

“I’m not sure this does either.” The Vanir-raised woman took a step forward, her expression icy. “You are the Smith of Lies.”

Zoe pulled herself up wearily but quickly, snaking her way between the feuding siblings. “Hey!” she said loud enough to demand attention, “Loki flirts all the time. It’s just... _him_. No need for sibling-cide or whatever.” She crossed her arms and squared off to both of them. “Besides, on _that_ front, the mortal can hold her own. Including saying what is and isn’t welcome.” At Loki’s triumphant smirk, she couldn’t help but add, “And I can always use that pressure point if he gets too handsy.”

The train’s momentum shifted, slowing sharply. Loki and Verun responded with annoying Aesir reflexes but the mortal woman stumbled into the male sibling. He caught her easily, drawing her against his chest and stabilizing her.

“Sir is requesting everyone’s presence in the main car.” JARVIS the omnipresent wight announced as the train stopped. “We have arrived at Halfway.”


	27. Halfway

“Charming.” Loki sneered as he looked around the space, his green eyes dismissive. Even Tony would admit that this part of Sanctuary wasn’t too impressive: the drab stone was dark and natural, and minimal lighting left the area in a state of perpetual gloom. The single door in the wall held much more interesting architecture behind it, which Reindeer Games was about to learn first hand.

“This is Halfway, and this is where you stay.” Tony set himself in front of the renegade off-worlder, glaring at him.

“Where I stay?” Loki narrowed his eyes, and the Iron Man resisted the urge to punch him in his snarky face.

“Yes, you, in our prison.” At Tony’s words, the alien asshole drew himself up, nearly puffing with rage.

“I will not be subjected to your confinement,” he hissed, his pale skin flushing.

Zoe glared at the billionaire, her hands clenching into fists. “No one is being put in a cage,” she hissed angrily, though thankfully nothing in the train’s cabin had yet started to move on it’s own. Verun put a hand on the mortal’s shoulder to calm her, but Zoe shook it off and took several steps towards Stark. “You’re supposed to be the _good guys_!”

 “We _are_ the good guys!” Tony matched her glare for glare, ignoring the stern look he was receiving from Verun, Thor and Emma. “I know you’ve been out of touch, but him?” He pointed an accusing finger at Loki. “ _He_ invaded New York with an alien army and killed hundreds of thousands of people. I hope you didn’t like Manhattan, because we’re still rebuilding some of the things that were knocked down by his alien friends! Add in sending down his murder bot after Thor, and I think he’s pretty solidly in the ‘douchebag’ slot.”

“Tony, you need to _calm down_ ,” Emma interjected, stepping forward and shooting him a warning look. Then she turned back to Zoe, her expression softening slightly. “Zoe, please try to understand. I know that you feel grateful to Loki for your rescue, that’s perfectly reasonable. And you’ve been locked away for a long time, so I know you’re not really aware of everything that’s been happening in the world in the interim. But like Tony said, your rescuer here invaded Manhattan. He killed people in his quest to acquire the Tesseract, and once he had it he opened up a portal from another world and let in aliens with the intention of enslaving this planet and everyone on it. Thousands of people died before the Avengers were able to stop it.”

Zoe glanced briefly at Loki, then shook her head. “You don’t understand what it’s like. The staff--”

“The staff influences people’s minds. I _do_ understand, as much as someone can who hasn’t been affected by it. But it’s more than that. The staff was used on you, but we don’t know how Loki acquired it. We know he was carrying it around, using it as a weapon, using it on other people to control _them_. We don’t know whether his plan to invade Earth had anything to do with the staff’s influence, or whether that was his original intention. We _do_ know that he sent a gigantic robot to kill his brother when Thor was stranded here on Earth, and we have no evidence he was being influenced by the staff at that time. According to Thor, he didn’t carry it back then.”

“ _Thank_ you!” Tony proclaimed, his voice full of smug satisfaction that someone was backing him up. The pleased expression faded, however, as Emma rounded on him and stalked a couple places back in his direction, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“And _you_ \-- you need to calm the hell down, Stark. We get it, you’re angry. So are we. You don’t trust him, neither do we. Your world fucking sucks --- guess what, so does mine! Last I checked, we were living on the same one. You’re grieving, so are we. And yes, Loki has a lot to do with that. But we don’t truly understand how much of that was his choosing. I understand, all too well, how it feels to be controlled by alien technology. But whatever we decide, and however we decide it, you need to check your attitude. The angry outbursts, the snap judgements, the drunken tirades - they need to stop. Your anger is affecting your judgement, Tony. And it’s affecting this team.”

“You know what’s really affecting this team?” Tony wasn’t backing down - of course he wasn’t, he never did.

“My friend, you may wish to consider your words before you speak them,” Thor said gently. “Besides, if my brother is entombed here, how will he make amends?”

“I’m a Republican, Thor.” The billionaire glared at him. “We don’t do amends.”

“Why are we having this conversation?” Tony glared at each of them in turn before settling on Emma. “Are you seriously telling me that we should just forget all he’s done and take him to the most secure place in the world? The place we built to be safe from people like him? Where we keep our _children_?”

“No, that is _not_ what I said. Didn’t you listen to what I just told Zoe? I personally happen to _agree_ with you, at least about not allowing him into Sanctuary. Perhaps you should have considered that before bringing him with us, although I suppose leaving him here was your plan all along. Thor and Verun could have taken him somewhere, but instead _you_ brought him along.” She took a deep breath and let it out, knowing that her own irritation at the moment wasn’t helping her case and suspecting that she was allowing some personal frustration to bleed over into the situation. When she spoke again, her voice was calmer and more logical. “Your anger is getting the best of you. You should have _known_ leaving him here would be contentious, but here you are, yelling at someone who was a Hydra captive and torture victim no more than three days ago. Loki broke her out of there, who wouldn’t be grateful? You saved _my_ life, and I’m grateful to _you_ for it. You act surprised that there are objections, but if you were thinking clearer you’d have known it was inevitable.”

“If you agree with me, then why are you arguing with me?” he asked, his tone sardonic.

“I don’t know!” she responded, sounding irritated and throwing up her hands in disgust.

“We shouldn’t fight.” Bucky stepped forward, looking grim. “Steve wouldn’t want that.”

“He wouldn’t want Loki running around either.” Tony took the opening provided.

“Are you sure?” The former assassin stood a little straighter as he said, “He forgave me, and I probably killed as many as many as Loki. Maybe more.”

“But you’re his best buddy.” Tony smirked. “I know, I’ve read the fanfiction.”

“That’s not why.” Bucky ignored the statement he didn’t understand, resolving to find out what ‘fanfiction’ was later. “Steve would give anyone a second chance, so long as they were willing to change.”

“I don’t believe Loki’s willing to change.” Tony gestured with his hands as he spoke. “He’s shown no remorse or regret. He’s the same asshole who burned Manhattan.”

“Why don’t you _ask_ him instead of just making assumptions and being an ass?” Zoe ground out between clenched teeth, still standing between the billionaire and her rescuer.

Loki was staring at Bucky, his eyes narrowed and his expression confused. He wasn’t sure why the metal-armed man was defending him at all, and didn’t like that uncertainty. He barely caught Zoe’s words but managed a sardonic smile. “I’ve said nothing because I doubt that the Man of Iron would believe me, regardless of what I may proclaim.”

Tony snorted. “I’ve heard what comes from trusting Loki.”

“If people wish to comment on trusting my brother, perhaps they should ask my opinion.” Thor’s voice was firm but not aggressive. “My brother has done ill to myself and both of the realms that I love, yet the Norns have said that he must be free. Something he does will be for the good, Tony, and that good can’t be done from behind these bars.”

“Wait. Norns? The least-helpful triumvirate of Nordic gods?” At Thor’s look, the billionaire shrugged and said, “It seemed prudent to do some research on you guys. So what did they say?”

“That he will play a part in the upcoming struggle, and that he must be on Midgard for that.” Thor crossed his arms.

“Okay.” Tony took a deep breath. “Do we care what they say?”

“Yes!” Verun and Thor said as one. The former stared at him with wide green eyes, aghast that he would even make the suggestion. She added, “The Norns advise to the good of Asgard and Midgard alike.”

“The problem, Tony, is that we _don’t_ know how much of a role the staff played in his actions. Sibling rivalry issues aside, the only action Loki has directly taken against this planet or it’s civilians has been while under the influence of the staff. And if that’s our meter then I’m a terrorist too, based on what I did while under the control of the nanites.” Emma sighed, running a hand across her face. “I’m not really comfortable taking him to Sanctuary, but neither am I particularly comfortable throwing him in a very well-made hole in the ground.”

“If you’re gonna lock him up here, then I’m staying here too.” Zoe crossed her arms, straightening her shoulders at her proclamation. She knew she probably sounded like a child throwing a tantrum, but she couldn’t let them abandon Loki here alone. No one deserved that.

“If you want,” Tony said, looking her in the eye.

“As the guy that Loki murdered, literally, can I say something?” Phil Coulson enjoyed the start of surprise from Zoe as that particular fact finally sank into her head past her hero worship of the green-clad prince.

“Please.” Stark waved his hand to give Phil the floor.

“I know you want something, Loki.” The mortal faced off with the long-lived jotun, looking into his eyes without fear. “I know you have some grandiose plan that involves all of us. I know that we’ll defeat it and you, regardless whether you’re in or out of the cells.” He looked at Tony. “So leave him out. Let him think he has the freedom to do as he pleases. When it comes right down to it, I’ve seen him do his worst, and walked away.”

The rest of the group grew silent at that. Thor inclined his head towards Phil, a small gesture of admiration towards the human. Verun mimicked the motion, suddenly comprehending a bit why this apparently unobtrusive human kept company with some of Midgard’s most stalwart defenders. Bucky said nothing, and Emma just shrugged, lifting her palms up in acknowledgement. It was, she thought, a pretty hard point of view to argue with.

“You arrogant mortal.” Loki’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. “I should destroy you again.”

Zoe’s eyes widened and she whirled to face the Jotun. “ _Not._ _Helping_.” she hissed at him, half horrified at his manner and half pissed off that his only real contribution to the conversation so far was a dozen step back towards getting him locked in a cage.

“You won’t.” Phil smiled coldly at Loki. “If you were up for it, you’d have tried already. I know your type, Loki. You spend a lot of time trying to convince others of your superiority, but superior people don’t have to prove it. They are, and people know it. So keep on threatening me and trying to cow me. I have your number, Lie-Smith.”

Everyone was watching Loki with various expressions. Thor and Bucky looked worried about his reaction, while Tony smirked at the verbal smackdown Coulson had delivered, and Emma’s lips twitched in amusement. The SHIELD agent waited patiently for a reply that never came. Of all of them, Verun seemed the calmest, watching with a neutral expression.

Bucky cleared his throat softly. “It sounds like most of us are in favor of giving Loki another chance. Let’s get on the train and get going.”

“You know what you sound like?” Tony asked him, turning to the former assassin. Bucky tensed but Tony just said, “Steve.” Turning to the others, he added, “Let’s roll. We’ll probably have this conversation all over again at Sanctuary, so let’s get going.”

The group started to file back aboard. Verun followed closely behind Zoe; when the Vanir sorceress drew abreast with Tony, she stopped. Looking at him, she hissed, “You are, as they say here, an asshole. Stay away from Zoe. She needs help, and you’re undoing all the progress I’m making with her.” As Tony blinked, she moved past him and into the car.

“Don’t look at me,” Bucky said when the billionaire turned to him for help. “I agree with her.”


	28. Hero

The second half of the ride was much quieter. Loki found a window seat and sulked, his sullen demeanour discouraging people from talking to him at all. Coulson claimed a seat next to Thor, talking softly about Jane’s research and SHIELD’s collaboration with the Think Tank. Zoe sat where she could watch Loki, mulling over all she’d heard. Bucky studied her for a moment, then rose and took a seat next to her. “Hey, Zoe, you okay?”

The white-haired woman gave the former super assassin a wan smile. “Relatively or universally?”

“Either?” He smiled at her gently, feeling that old surge of protectiveness that had been part of his life since he’d meet a skinny little punk in Brooklyn. “Tony was kinda hard on you. I wanted to make sure he didn’t scraped all of your hide off.”

She chuckled softly. “Stark wasn’t _hard_ on me, he was dismissive. Like pretty much all men with alphabet soup behind their name or too much money to be healthy usually are, especially to-” She cut herself off before she descended into a tirade about social equality and ingrained gender bigotry. It wasn’t really the time - or the point. “I’m fine, relatively. I got what I wanted, didn’t I?” She glanced over at Loki, her tone uncertain.

Bucky looked at the jotun, his expression just as unsure as hers. “It’s not just you. Stark was an asshole to me, too. I just deserve it. Maybe Loki does, too. I just can’t condemn a man based on Tony Stark’s word alone.”

“It’s. . .” she sighed. “Everyone’s been saying that he can’t be trusted and he did all of these evil things, but I don’t know. Invading Manhattan, that was while he was being controlled by that staff and no one seems to care. The other stuff? I don’t know. No one’s explained any of that to me, just said things here or there. Something about a killer robot?” She shook her head. “I know he can be a jerk. I’ve seen that firsthand. I dumped hot chocolate on him because of it, actually.”

She bit her lip, trying not to blush about the hair washing episode after the hot chocolate. “But he also _saved_ me. He got me out of that place, rescued me from HYDRA.” She made a face, her tone bitter, “Not that that seems to mean anything to everyone else. Just a little footnote detail easily ignored in favor of locking him up or yelling at him about stuff he _didn’t_ have control over.” She ran a hand through her hair, thoroughly flustered and frustrated. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I have, like, delayed Stockholm’s or something.”

“Or just a different perspective about him.” Bucky shifted in his seat. “HYDRA had me for a long time, too. Steve grew up with me, and we were best friends. The rest of the world saw me only as the Winter Soldier.” At her frown of incomprehension, he smiled grimly and said, “HYDRA’s premiere assassin.”

“Ugh. That sounds awful.” Images flashed through her mind of people dying and Dr. Sadistic talking to her, but they were muted and slipped away before she could fully register them. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Bonafide dicks, the whole lot of them.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I’m glad you got away. Did Captain America convince the others to rescue you? Or did you badass assassin ninja chop your way out on your own?”

“I beat the shit out of Steve and only barely overcame my brainwashing long enough to save him from drowning.” Bucky’s jaw clenched, raising white lines under his accumulating stubble. “He saved me, but it nearly k-kill--” He stopped, his voice catching. Zoe waited as he fought back tears, blinking rapidly to seize their descent. “He was ready to let me . . . complete my mission rather than hurt me back. Once he’d stopped me from helping HYDRA kill one-point-two million innocents or so.”

She tilted her head, regarding him curiously. “Did they use the staff on you too?”

“No.” His voice was taut with anxiety. “I wish they would have. Would have hurt less than the Chair. It was-” He stopped, realizing he’d never learned the science behind the device that had enslaved him. “They erased my memories and gave me missions instead.” He shrugged. “They didn’t have the staff at the end of World War II, since Loki brought it to Earth when he attempted his invasion.”

“Yeah, about that. If you grew up with Captain America, how are you still alive? How is, was. . .” she fumbled for words, realizing how insensitive her question had gotten, but it had been bugging her. She’d read about Steve Rogers, Captain America, in her history class just like everyone else, but those stories had always ended with him crashing an enemy bomber plane into the ocean and dying.

“I fell off a cliff in the Alps and was presumed dead. The Germans found me and saw an opportunity, replaced the arm I’d lost, and reprogrammed me. HYDRA froze me when the didn’t need me.” Bucky tried to shrug it off, but was aware he was too stiff to convince her that it didn’t bother him. “The only reason I’m still alive is because I’ve had a HYDRA super soldier serum. No one knows what was in it, but I do heal better and am stronger than before.”

She wanted to ask if that was what happened to Captain America, too, but that seemed more than just rude given the circumstances. Instead she murmured, “Wow, that makes my two years seem a little...underwhelming in comparison.”

He looked chagrined. “You could see it that way, or you can remember that I didn’t recall who I was for most of that time. I wasn’t until I met Steve again that I started to break down the conditioning. You were aware all the time . . . Right?”

A shudder ran through her and her mind _bent_ a little at the edges. “Not...not all the time,” she eked out through a suddenly dry throat.

“That’s good.” He put a careful hand on her shoulder, using his flesh-and-blood one. “You’ve been through something terrible. I’ve spent about two years recovering myself. You’ll heal, too. I can tell that you’re the fighter type.”

She smirked at him and noted, “You and the aliens seem to be the only ones that do.”

Tony came back from the forward control cab. “Emma, can you come up here and help me with something?”

She drew in a breath and nodded, standing up. “Sure.” In truth she was glad for an excuse to get away from the tense silence and murmured conversations in the passenger car. However irritable Tony’s mood might be, it was still better than the alternative. She followed him back towards the front of the train and sat down in the secondary engineer’s seat. “What do you need?”

She’d expected to see an open panel or other engineering problem. Instead, for former boss spread his hands, his tone thick with frustration. “How am I the bad guy here?”

She sighed, her expression somewhere between sympathy and frustration. “Because you’re acting like the bad guy, Tony. It’s not necessarily what you’re saying or doing, it’s the way you’re saying and doing it.”

“Oh my god.” He put his head in his hands, then pulled a hip flask out of his pocket and took a healthy swig. “Seriously? We’re in the middle of a war, and I’m getting shit because I won’t hold hands around the fire and sing Kumbaya?”

Her lips twitched, though Tony couldn’t tell if it was out of amusement or irritation. She held out her hand for the flask, and arched a brow when he hesitated. “Oh, you get to drink your way through this conversation and I don’t?”

He handed it over then and she took a gulp from the flask, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment and pressing her lips together in reaction to the potency of the liquor. Then she screwed it shut and handed it back to him, hoping he’d take the hint. “If you want to work with people who are going to shut up and follow your every word, then you need to lead an army of peons instead of a joining a group of superheroes. You’re a take charge guy, a CEO, a man used to making the decisions. Everybody knows that, and nobody expects you to hold hands and join in the group hug, Tony.”

“But if we don’t have mandatory group hugs, then when will I get the chance to grope the pretty women?” He took another drink even as he flashed one of his incorrigible smirks at her.

“I wouldn’t suggest it at the moment, I’m pretty sure most of us could kick your ass unless you’re wearing the suit. Except me,” she corrected, flashing him an overly-sweet smile. “I can kick your ass if you _are_ wearing the suit.”

She hesitated, then held out her hand for the flask again. ‘ _You know, because you and Tony and alcohol go so well together,’_  her mind cautioned her. She ignored it, however, and took another drink. This one went down smoother, and she closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth start to spread through her.

After a moment they opened again, and she leaned forward towards him, her golden-brown eyes catching his gaze. “You just need to stop, and think. That girl has been locked up for years. It’s only been _three days,_ Stark. She doesn’t know. We can say the words, but she didn’t live through it, or watch it on CNN with her stomach in her throat, or bury any of her friends or relatives after the attack.

“All she knows right now is that he’s the guy that pulled her out of a HYDRA jail cell and saved her from years of torture and imprisonment. We don’t even know why he saved her. I’m sure it was sheer luck on her part, she just happened to be where the scepter was. I can’t imagine he gives a shit about her one way or another, besides how he can use her. But _she_ doesn’t know that. She’s suffered a horrific amount of trauma at the hands of HYDRA, she’s suffered mental damage according to Verun. And the thing is, she doesn’t know him any better than she knows us. If she’s been out of commission since before the attack on Manhattan, she didn’t even know about the Avengers until the last couple of days! She has no reason to trust us until we give her one, Tony.”

“But I’m Iron Man,” he said, with just enough sarcasm to cast doubt on the sincerity in his tone.

“Yes… yes you are,” she replied, her lips curving wryly at the corners. “You do remember Iron Man is supposed to be a hero, right? Little kids look up to you, people want your autograph, women swoon at your feet? You’re not doing so hot on the last part at the moment.”

“She’s a girl, and as you said, one who’s been traumatized.” Tony’s brown eyes warmed with lust for a moment as he said, “I prefer grown women.” Emma stared at him, her eyebrow rising, and he sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about what he might do, Emma. This is Loki. We’re already lucky that he’s not yet turned us into newts or something. I’d make an awful newt.”

“That’s true. You would make a _terrible_ newt,” she quipped in return, a smile on her lips. Then her expression grew serious, and she dropped the playful banter. “I know you’re scared, Tony. I don’t trust him either. But Coulson’s right - you guys have taken him on with an army at his back, and you sent him packing. We’re just going to have to deal with it. Hell, I might be just as scared leaving him back at Halfway, with none of us there to watch him. You know what they say… keep your friends close, your enemies closer, all that cliche bullshit?”

“ _Jarvis_ would have been watching him.” Tony sighed heavily. “Also, for the record: I’m not scared of _him_. I’m scared about what he’ll do.”

“Of course. That’s a very important distinction, I’m glad you cleared it up for me,” she replied, her voice teasing. Then, suddenly, she leaned forward and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. Before he could respond, she stood up and made her way out of the cab back towards the passenger car. It wasn’t until she had been gone several minutes that he realized she’d taken the flask with her. 


	29. Nope

“Nope, I’m telling you, it’s not going to happen.” Clint’s arms were crossed as he glared at the entire group. “On a personal level, I’m saddened you even asked.”

“Yes, we know, you’re so disappointed with us, Dad.” Tony may have agreed with the archer, but that didn’t stop him from a little mockery.

“I should have said ‘horrified’.” Still blocking the entrance to Sanctuary like a bouncer at an A-list club, Hawkeye shook his head like a teacher facing a room of insane preschoolers. “Seriously, what made you think you could bring Loki here?”

“Clint, he was under the power of the sceptre when he invaded Manhattan.” Thor stepped up for his brother, as he had been doing since Odin had told him the truth behind Loki’s actions on Midgard.

“Oh? The same sceptre he used to control me?” Hawkeye fastened angry steel blue eyes on  the large Asgardian. “That’s the thing controlling him?”

“Odin has healed him,” Thor protested.

“So that’s got to be a hell of a doctor’s note,” the archer noted acerbically. “‘Please forgive little Loki for the murder and mayhem he committed. He wasn’t feeling well.’” He glared at the silent jotun. “You got something to say or are you going to hide behind big brother?”

If the barb stung, Loki showed no sign. “I rather thought engaging with you mentally would be fighting with an unarmed opponent.”

“Please don’t start.” Natasha looked weary as she leaned against a wall. “I came here to back Hawkeye up, not listen to you children squabble.”

Whatever Clint or Loki was going to say in response was cut off by a transport cart rolling out of the main tunnel to Sanctuary. Darcy Lewis hopped off her seat when it stopped, her expression serious. “So we talked about it, and the Council will allow Loki inside with two understandings.”

Clint threw his hands in the air in disgust, turning away mumbling about why he bothered. Darcy shot him a hard look but it was Loki who spoke, asking, “What must I concede?”

She faced him and looked up at the taller man, displaying no fear as she said, “First, we expect you to work toward the betterment of Sanctuary. You need to be useful, rather than a drain on our resources. Second, if you step out of line, Loki, you get no second chances. You’ll be tossed into Halfway and left to rot.” She grinned brightly and added, “And Halfway was built to last for _eons_ , so you don’t get a pass on that living practically forever thing.”

“If something happens, it’ll be looked into, right? Before sending him away?” Zoe asked, glancing up at the princeling and giving him time to do something other than scowl or pout for an answer. “I mean, self-defence is okay, and if he’s being targeted, provoked, that would be taken into consideration as well. Right?”

“Sure, but I doubt anyone here could put his life in danger.” Darcy glanced at Thor. “Maybe another Asgardian. While that will be taken into consideration, Loki’s the one on trial here. He’s the one who has to prove his safety to us. We’re the ones opening our homes and giving him a chance to be here. So if he’s being provoked, he’ll need to tell someone who can handle it, rather than take care of it himself. Understood?”

“Perhaps I need someone to protect me, to serve as a witness and defend my person since I’ll be punished for doing it myself.” Loki’s smile turned cruel. “I would have Zoe do this.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility for one person,” Coulson interjected smoothly. The idea of Zoe spending that much one-on-one time with the smooth-talking master manipulator worried him. “Perhaps that role could be alternated between a few volunteers. His siblings, for instance,” he suggested, motioning towards Thor and Verun.

“I would be willing to volunteer as well,” Emma offered, giving Tony a brief glance before focusing on Phil. It might make Stark feel a bit better to know that someone was keeping a more cynical eye on the bastard.

“So it is now a prison of eyes rather than bars.” Loki shrugged noncommittally. “Very well, if your attempts at trust are so fragile, I can endure the unending lack of privacy.”

 _I’m starting to think he’s a closet exhibitionist_ , Zoe thought to herself and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the mental image. “Well,” she said as brightly as Darcy had earlier, “that’s cleared up, so can we go in?” _And not give Mr. I’m Bored a chance to pick another fight or needle people more._

“Great! It’s settled.” Darcy turned back to the cart and hopped on, glancing back at the waiting group. “Who wants to ride bitch?”

“Well, first, this is shotgun,” Tony noted as he took the passenger seat. “Are you sure you’re authorized to drive this thing, Manic Pixie Girl?” Clint quietly took the seat behind the billionaire, settling his collapsed bow across his legs. Natasha took the other backseat, leaving the bench.

“Fuck off, Warbucks.” Darcy flashed him a friendly grin despite her harsh words. “You have your ride and you’ve never offered me a lift, bitch or otherwise.”

“That would make you one of the few,” Emma replied sardonically, climbing onto the bench at the back of the cart.

“I guess we’re walking,” Zoe said amiably, hoping to head off any offence Loki might take from not getting to ride in the cart. _Good god, it really is like wrangling a toddler._ She frowned and mulled that over in her mind, wondering if he acted the way he did at least a bit because people would then bend over backwards not to upset him. _That’s...not healthy. On either end._

“I can send a cart or two back for you,” Darcy offered, “but it’s really not that far. I’m just lazy and abhor physical exertion of any kind.”

“Worry not, my lightning sister,” Thor replied cheerfully. “Sanctuary is an excellent example of Midgardian ingenuity, Jane has told me much about the scientific processes behind it. I will be honored to show it to my brother and his Vanir sister on the walk back.”

“I’d like to hear more about it too,” Bucky interjected. “I was-” He faltered slightly at the memory of Steve’s funeral, then drew in a deep breath to collect himself. “I didn’t see much of it yesterday.”

“See you all there!” Darcy did an impromptu donut in the quiet electric cart and headed down the tunnel at an astounding fifteen miles per hour. She still had a gleeful smile as if she were in a race car.

Bucky offered his arm to Verun. She looked at it then hesitantly mimicked him. “Here,” he said with a soft laugh, taking her hand and winding it around his elbow. “It’s how a gentleman escorts a lady on Earth.”

“I have told you, I’m not royalty,” Verun informed him somberly but made no effort to pull away.

“On Earth, any respectable woman can be a lady.” He tugged her hand closer and dropped his voice. “And I’d rather have you here than any queen.”

Verun gave him a dazzling smile and hugged his arm lightly. “Thank you. I’ll not tell any of the nobility you said that.”

As the group started to follow the cart back into the city proper, Coulson fell into step next to Zoe. “How are you holding up?” he asked softly.

“Not so thrilled to be stuck underground again,” she replied sardonically, “but at least the accommodations should be better. And I’m pretty sure it’s physically impossible for the food to be worse here than it was in Tibet.” She sighed and tapped her fingers on her arm lightly, “Though it looks like I still won’t be getting my things out of storage any time soon.”

“I can have them brought here.” Phil gestured at their surroundings. “That might be safer anyway. Than you going to retrieve them in person. You don’t have much experience fighting, if you were to run into trouble.”

“Do you really think I would?” she asked, her brows furrowing. “I mean, who really knows that I’m not still missing? It’s only been a couple of days, and I spent those mostly at the Avenger’s Tower.”

“HYDRA would know that you were at that base, and we raided it. If they know what you can do, they might want to recapture you.” He smiled gently, trying not to scare her. “We can protect you from them.”

“My sister and I are teaching her to defend herself, since you have failed to do so until now.” Loki’s biting retort cut through the air.

“If you want self defense, Zoe, you could get better training from Natasha.” Phil shot a glare at the jotun.

“Are you suggesting that the Black Spider has better skills than warriors centuries her senior?” Loki’s sneer stated what he thought of that idea.

Phil didn’t rise to the bait, though his jaw muscles tightened. “No, I’m suggesting that someone who is human and has learned to fight as a human would have a better idea on how to pass on her skills to another human.”

“Oooor,” Zoe interjected with exaggerated diplomacy, “I could just ask everyone and those that have the time and inclination could teach me. Best of all worlds and hopefully I won’t be playing the ‘damsel in distress’ for the rest of my life.”

“I have the time and inclination, as does Verun.” Loki nodded his head as his sibling shot him a wry glance. “Or so she has stated. We shall, with your permission Zoe, teach you what you need to know.”

“And hey,” the white-haired woman smiled at Phil, “if I can keep up with _them_ , then HYDRA grunts don’t stand a chance.”

Phil frowned. “If you’re getting in over your head, please let me know. Even if Natasha is busy with other duties, I know any number of people here who can give you instruction.”

“Do you not trust us?” Verun asked from behind them where she walked with Bucky. The two of them looked content as they strolled several paces behind the others.

“Well, I don’t know you,” Phil said, his tone reasonable, “and Loki I know too well.”

“As you keep reminding us,” the jotun retorted.

“It’s a little hard to forget the guy who murdered you.” Phil glanced at Zoe, looking for her reaction again.

“So how are you here, if he killed you?” Bucky asked curiously, while Zoe frowned and glanced at Loki thoughtfully.

“SHIELD had a contingency plan for an Avenger falling in battle.” Phil smiled crookedly. “Say what you will, but SHIELD does have great medical.”

“Coming back from the dead isn’t that great,” Bucky noted softly, his blue eyes sad with a lost life.

“Beats the alternative,” Zoe quipped back darkly. Her mind flashed on dozens faces, desperate and in pain, and she stumbled on her next step.

“Yes,” Phil said softly as he caught her arm, “it does.”


	30. Milk Run

They were all quiet after that, lost in their personal demons or with their own thoughts. Once they’d caught up with the spritely Darcy and her cart, Clint, Tony, and Emma had already hustled off to discuss the events of the day. Darcy played guide for the rest of them, showing them to their rooms and pointing out the important places (cafeteria, games room, swimming pool, and the bar) in the Avenger’s Place before showing them each to their rooms.

In the conference room, Clint asked incredulously, “You’ve got to be kidding me. They actually served you? With lawyers and papers and everything?”

“Exactly that. They told me I had to hand over the nanites immediately. When we pointed out that it was impossible, they told me they were authorized to take me if I refused to cooperate,” Emma replied, irritation flickering across her face.

“So you see why we’ve gotta head out ASAP, Barton. Tomorrow morning at the very latest. Emma has the hard data, but we’ve got to get our hands on that research before Hammer locates the facility. It’ll take him awhile, but he’s bound to find it eventually. There’s no way I’m letting him get his hands on that tech,” he stated flatly, pacing the conference room. “More importantly, I have two dozen of the greatest minds on this planet at that location, along with their families and additional staff. I offered them my protection, damnit! I intend on making sure they still have it.”

“No doubt Hammer could easily have that warrant adjusted to involve the scientists, if he found out about them. That or bring some kind of legal action against them,” Emma offered.

“So who else are you planning to take on this mission?” Hawkeye asked, walking over to the window. He flipped a switch, turning off the artificial outdoor scenery and gazing out across the underground city. “I’m out. I’m not leaving my city right after you decide it’s an appropriate place for an alien terrorist’s house arrest.”

“Uh, for the official record, I was going to leave his ass at Halfway, tied up tighter than the centerpiece in a Kinbaku-bi show.” As Clint choked back a laugh at the reference to the art of rope bondage, Tony added, “It was your council that let him in.”

“Bleeding heart liberals,” Clint muttered without real rancor, turning to face the room again. “Regardless, I’m not going. You should take Emma though - all the way.”

Emma’s eyes widened, then narrowed angrily until Barton could almost feel the hundreds of tiny knife wounds from her gaze. Standing behind Tony, she dragged her fingers sharply across her throat at Clint with a motion that indicated he needed to shut up. Or possibly that she was going to kill him, it was hard to tell for sure.

“I was planning on it,” Tony stated, oblivious to the silent communication occurring over his shoulder. “You don’t leave one of your star players at home.”

“Good.” Clint frowned at Emma, even as he asked Tony, “Who else?”

“I’ll see if Lefty’s ready for the field, maybe even all gussied up.” Tony frowned but added, “He’s got to get on that horse sometime.”

“You sure he’s ready?” Hawkeye asked.

“No.” Tony turned his chair to grin at Emma. “Neither was she, and Emma did fine.”

“Her performance was exemplary?” Clint asked with a lecherous grin.

Emma clenched her teeth and kept her expression passive through sheer force of will, with only a slightly muscle twitch betraying her irritation.

Tony’s eyes narrowed and he glanced from one to the other. “Uhhh, yeah, she did good in Tibet. Did I miss something?”

“Did I?” Clint asked, looking confused. “Because I thought I hadn’t.”

Emma held Clint’s gaze for just another moment, then turned to Tony with a small but grateful smile. “Thanks. I feel like I should’ve done more, but I suppose that’s a pretty normal reaction,” she responded, hoping he wouldn’t notice that she was glossing over the last part of the conversation. “Besides, I have a feeling Bucky will do better to keep occupied for the time being.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t his therapy,” the archer said quickly. “Can he do the job?”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t know. Is there a test for this kind of thing?”

“Yeah, the test is generally the field,” Clint said unhappily.

“Well, this is gonna be a milk run.” Tony rubbed his hands together. “Perfect for getting his feet wet.”

“And if it all goes horribly, horribly wrong?” the protector of Sanctuary asked.

“That’s what Thor’s there for.” Tony shook his head. “I didn’t know you were such a giant pussy, Barton.”

“Nice misogynist talk there, buddy. Emma, I’ll leave him to your tender care.” With that, the archer retreated strategically.

“What’d I say?” Tony asked, looking confused.

“Nothing, Stark,” Emma replied, following Clint towards the door. Normally she would’ve been happy to give Tony a piece of her mind, but today she was just anxious to ditch the conversation before it circled back around to Clint’s innuendo. But as she reached the door she turned back, unable to resist a parting shot before bailing. “You were just being your normal charming self.”

Alone in the room, Tony frowned and wondered when Emma had started calling him ‘Stark’ again - and why it bothered him so much.

~ * ~ * ~

She caught up to Clint at the end of the hallway. “We need to talk,” she murmured, grabbing his arm insistently, though not painfully, and directed him around the corner in search of somewhere secluded. “Please, just for a second.”

“For you, I have two seconds,” Clint quipped but looked serious as he asked, “What was that in there?”

She opened a door marked with the name of some Sanctuary bureaucrat that she knew wouldn’t be working this late in the day. A brief scan of the office confirmed her decision, and she closed the door behind Clint quietly. “Did you mention anything about Stark and I to anyone? Natasha, Jane, any of the others? Make a snarky comment, laugh about it over a drink?”

“I said something to Natasha - who commended you on taking one for the team, by the way, but no, no one else.” Clint narrowed his eyes. “Why, did he knock you up and you’re trying to keep it on the downlow?”

“No!” she proclaimed, sounding equal parts annoyed and amused. “Clint, it’s been approximately twenty-four hours. How on earth would you expect me to know that anyway? Did you even pay attention to biology class as a child? I mean, if you want to get technical, it’s possible I could not be pregnant at this moment, and still get pregnant from last night. Except it’s not possible, because I’m an adult who knows how birth control works.” She stopped and drew in a breath as she realized she was rambling, and ran a hand across her face. “Sorry.”

“For all I knew, you’ve been humping him for years.” Clint still looked annoyed at her words but he let it go, just remarking, “You just should have said for me to keep it secret if you didn’t want people to know. I worked for SHIELD; I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

“It’s fine, I’ll find Natasha. I doubt she’s mentioned it to anyone else.” She sighed again, and then ran a hand through her hair self-consciously as a blush crept across her cheeks. “It’s just that… well… he doesn’t remember.”

Clint snorted. “Classic Stark.”

“Not really,” she replied, her voice a bit sharp. “Classic Stark doesn’t get so drunk he can’t remember his sexual conquests the next morning. I had been drinking too, but I didn’t realize--” She cut off the sentence, unsure of how to finish it without sounding pathetic. “It’s just humiliating, Clint. If he doesn’t remember that night, I don’t see any reason to remind him.”

“Well, yes, if you see it as embarrassing, I guess that’s the right answer.” Clint sighed. “This is on him, not you, Em. He’s the irresponsible adult who not only couldn’t control his temper enough to not get shit-faced, he’s the guy who slept with a co-worker and was so drunk he didn’t remember it. Hell, did he wake up alone, naked, and with signs of sexual copulation, and just think that was normal? Either he’s too dumb to realize what happened or he’s denying it because it bothered him. Personally, I think you should go rub it in his face. Make him own up to what he did.”

“To what purpose?” she replied, the slight tremble in her voice belying her cool expression. “I might know Tony too well to hero-worship him like I used to when I was younger, but he’s still the world’s leading mechanical engineer. Someone whose intellect I respect and admire, whom I want to continue to work with and learn from. I should be relieved he doesn’t remember, maybe that means things can stay the same as they were before.”

Clint stared at her, blinked once, and then releasing a braying laugh. It continued for several seconds while Emma waited with increasing annoyance. Finally, he calmed down enough to talk. “So lemme get this straight. You’ve had sex with a man you admire, and you don’t think anything’s going to change? Really? C’mon, Red, sex changes everything.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but just then her phone began to ring, the theme to ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ filling the empty room. She pulled it out of her pocket and a picture of Tony filled the screen. It was one that was obviously snapped while she was observing him work, as opposed to one of his many promotional pictures or professional magazine covers. She sighed in irritation, shooting a wry look at Clint. “Figures. I get better reception in an underground city than I do in my own apartment. How does that work?”

She flipped her thumb across the phone, lifting it up to her ear. “Yeah? Okay, I’m on my way. See you there.” She hung up, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “I have to meet Tony, go find Bucky and Thor and let them know what the plan is. I’ll catch you later, Clint. Thanks for understanding.”

“Yeah, no problem.” The archer sighed. As she disappeared around the corner, he muttered, “Don’t let me get in the way of your sexual repression, hon.”

He quickly found the other two men on Darcy’s tour and brought them back to the room where he, Emma, and Stark had chatted. The billionaire was there alone. “Didn’t Emma come back?” Clint asked.

“Ms. Thompson needed to use the restroom.” Tony said it flippantly but Clint wasn’t fooled. The man in the iron suit was lashing out against some perceived hurt.

God save me from spatting lovers. Clint just nodded, waved the other two to their seats, and waited for her return. When Emma came in, he started the meeting with a brisk, “Now that we’re all here, Tony, why don’t you outline the mission.”

Bucky shifted uneasily but didn’t speak. The protector of Sanctuary waited for the other man to object but he didn’t. Tony gave him a moment too, then said with a shrug, “I have a Utah facility that does R&D. Since some of what they do there is based on the nanites, I suspect that Hammer will hit them. Since he’s a peevish little prick, I imagine he’ll try to kidnap the two dozen or so scientists I have there. I need to got there before him, wipe the computer, and get my people out. They’ll have families, too, so it’ll be about a hundred total.”

Clint frowned. “You’ll need something big for that. Maybe the Bus?”

Tony nodded; he’d already planned to use the covert agency’s transport plane. “I’m sure SHIELD will let me lease it. Any questions?”

“None for me, it sounds pretty straightforward. Guys?” Emma glanced at the blonde Asgardian and the metal-armed soldier.

“I am in agreement,” Thor replied with a nod. “This seems a simple enough mission. I look forward to aiding these scientists and their families before they find themselves in peril.” Bucky nodded silently in agreement, and Emma nodded in return.

“Great,” she said, standing up and making her way to the door. “Then I’m heading to bed. It’s been a very long day, and we should get an early start in the morning. I’ll see you boys then.”

She smiled briefly at them all, though it flickered for a moment when her eyes met Tony’s. The silence in the room felt palpable, and after a moment she realized it had gone on too long. Pulling her gaze away from his, she pulled the door open abruptly and hurried out of the room, out of the building, and towards the Avenger’s living quarters.

“What the hell is going on?” Tony muttered, then shook his head and hurried after her. “Emma. Emma, wait!” He dropped into step next to her, catching her arm. “Are you ever going to tell me why you’re pissed at me?”

“I’m not pissed, Tony,” she replied, turning to him. “I told you that back at the tower.”

“You say that, yet you act like I’ve killed your dog.” His brown eyes locked with hers, intent and focused. She’d seen that look before, when he’d been deep in invention mode in the lab. Now, he was turning that mental attention to her. “C’mon, are you going to break up the band? What’s your Yoko?”

“Yoko is a person, Tony. Not a ‘what’.” She smiled, trying to look amused and unruffled. “Sorry if I’ve been a bit off. It’s been a trying few days, I suppose.”

“Need a shoulder to cry on?” The billionaire gestured at his own. “I mean, I’m only going to pretend to listen to you, but I can fake it really well.”

She went still at that. The amusement faded from her expression along with the smile. “That’s good to know. Of course, I actually do listen to you when you’re upset. But then again, you have to get raging drunk before you’ll talk to anyone in the first place, so how could I possibly expect you to remember that little detail?”

His eyes narrowed and he took a step forward into her personal space. His gaze filled with fury and Emma backed up instinctively, pressing against the wall. Glaring at her, he snarled, “You told me nothing happened.” Then he stalked down the hall, his body tight with tension.

“That’s not what I said!” she responded, but he kept walking. For the first time since she’d realized that he had no memory of that night, her embarrassment and hurt flared to anger. “Don’t you walk away from me, Tony Stark! You started this!”

“How?” He turned at that, glaring down the hallway at her. “You seem pretty sure of that, but you also seemed pretty sure I’d done nothing. So which is it, Emma?”

“I said you didn’t do anything to embarrass yourself. That you didn’t do anything wrong. That’s not the same as doing nothing,” she countered, her expression still fierce. Despite his angry glare she closed the distance between them, this time getting in his personal space. “You’re not the only fuck-up around here, Stark. You’re not the only one who makes mistakes, and you do not have the market cornered on drunken idiocy, either.”

“Well, if you did something, why am I the bad guy?” The anger was still there but confusion was rising. “All I know is that I’m on your shit list but you won’t tell me why. That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair sometimes.” The words would have been harsher, except her voice and expression had softened. She started to reach up, but then pulled her hand back and drew in a deep breath. “And you’re not on my shit list, Tony.”

“Yeah, life isn’t fair, that’s why the people in it should be.” He turned and walked away from her, still clearly angry. At the doorway, he paused and looked back. “Pepper would have told me.”

Then he was gone, hurrying away from her and the conflicting emotions she pulled out of him. She watched him go, waiting until he had disappeared before she leaned against the wall and slid down, her arms wrapped around herself protectively. “Yeah,” she murmured quietly, her voice pained. “She probably would have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all of our lovely readers! I hope you're enjoying the story so far! We have come to the end of our initial backlog of chapters and life had been a bit hectic (babies....they take all the times), se we might have a short hiatus while we get more chapters written. This all depends on how this week goes writing-wise. If we do, dprough and MalachiteDrake will post the starting chapters of another Avenger's piece we've been working on while Age of Miracles is on break. Thanks for your patience and I'll update this note by Friday with whether we are going on break or not.


	31. Spilled Milk

The next morning came early, and the four Avengers were taken outside of Sanctuary. It was the first real sun they’d felt in almost two days, and they stood outside watching the S.H.I.E.L.D plane affectionately referred to as “The Bus” as it made it’s landing, silhouetted by the rising sun.

Coulson motioned towards the plane as it landed, his voice rising to be heard of the sound of the engines. “I’ve asked Agent May to fly the plane for you. I figured that since you’re abandoning the compound, Stark, it won’t matter to you if she knows it’s location.”

Stark nodded in confirmation, and Phil pressed a button on his earpiece. "They're here and ready, May. Drop the ramp."

The back end of the plane opened, lowering itself to the ground so that it's super-powered passengers could board. Thor and Bucky made their way in, followed by Emma, and then finally Tony.

He turned back to the hangar, waving once towards the S.H.I.E.L.D agent. “Don’t worry, Coulson, I’ll bring her back in one piece.”

“You’d better, or you’re building me a better one,” Phil replied, turning back towards the hanger as the plane’s ramp began to close.

“Who said I was talking about the plane?” Tony called back. Phil waved without looking back over her shoulder, disappearing through the door. The ramp was closed and there was no more noise inside the well-insulated stealth vehicle. Tony made his way up the stairs and into the main conference space. He let out a low whistle, and Emma laughed slightly.

“I know, it’s almost as nice as one of yours,” she joked. She’d decided it was best to pretend as if yesterday’s argument hadn’t happened, at least for the duration of the mission.

He didn’t look at her. “Our tax dollars at work. Well, your guys’ tax dollars at work.” He sat down and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankles.

"So where is your facility?" Bucky asked, looking around the room. Unlike Tony, he sat down carefully, sitting a little stiffly.

"Utah," Toby replied. Bucky looked surprised, and Emma arched a dubious brow.

"Utah, Stark?" She smiled in amusement, but he could still see the wariness in her eyes when she looked at him. "Doesn't seem like your normal style."

"Precisely," he responded, threading his fingers behind his head and leaning back into the luxurious leather seat. If she was going to play the 'everything's peachy' game then so could he, at least for the moment. "Can you think of a place any less me?"

"Good point," she murmured.

"Where is this 'Utah', Stark?" Thor sat down as well, lounging in the way that seemed ingrained into Asgardian warriors, like a king on his throne. Or maybe that was just Asgardian princes.

"Near New Mexico, where you first touched down, Blondie." He stood up and made his way to the conference room, and the others followed. With a few flicks and button presses, he brought the briefing tabletop to life, and zoomed in on a holographic image of the complex. "This is it, home-sweet-secret complex. It houses about a dozen scientists, their families, and support staff over here. These are the research laboratories here, and this is the cafeteria, exercise facilities and such." He gestures to each part of the complex as he described them.

"At this time of day the research laboratories should be mostly clear," Emma observed. "We should start with the living quarters and common areas first."

“Do they know we’re coming?” Bucky asked quietly.

Tony nodded. “I sent an encrypted message before we left.”

The former assassin nodded. “Well, are they gathering in a central location?”

“No, they have a lot of gear and equipment to destroy or disable, and lots of data to download.” The billionaire frowned. “They’re gathering the families - kids and stay-at-home-spouses - in the gym.”

“So let’s evac them first.” Bucky looked up and for a moment, Tony saw Steve’s steady, wise gaze in his eyes. “Get the civilians out, and the scientists can feel better knowing that their families are already safe.”

“Very wise,” Thor nodded, clapping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder in a display of solidarity. “How soon shall we arrive at our destination?”

“Very soon.” Agent May’s voice came over the intercom. “Stark, we’re twenty minutes out from the landing site.”

“Fast trip,” Bucky exclaimed, looking a bit startled. He still wasn’t quite used to the speed at which modern-day aircraft could travel.

“It’s a fast plane,” Agent May replied over the intercom, her voice dry.

~  *  ~  *  ~

They landed and made their way directly towards the gymnasium. Tony took the lead, stepping into the room first and making his way directly to the middle. The younger children cheered, excited as always to see Iron Man. They weren’t old enough to understand the gravity of the situation, but the older children and civilian parents were wearing their serious faces.

Tony took in the somber expressions and broke into a wide grin as his face helmet popped open. “Good morning, everyone! I’m glad to see you all up and awake. Believe me, I wish I was sleeping in on a Saturday morning too. But since we’re up, we might as well make it an interesting morning, right? So if everyone will grab your bags and head over there towards Thor,” he said, motioning towards the hammer-wielding Avenger, “we’re going to load everyone up into one of the coolest planes you’ll ever have the pleasure of flying in. I’m probably ruining you for coach class forever, but there’s nothing to be done about it. So come on, let’s get going. The sooner we’re on the plane, the sooner we start up the cartoon reel. Let’s go, kids.”

He started motioning, and the children hurried towards the open door. Thor waved them through, smiling good-naturedly at the children and non-scientist parents alike. Bucky was outside gathering them all into a group to lead towards the plane and doing a quick head count, just in case. The kids mostly ignored him but more than one adult stared hard at him - or at his arm. Swallowing, he pretended that they weren’t glaring at his most distinctive feature.

Emma stepped closer to Tony once she saw he had it pretty much under control. “It looks like you’ve got this. I’m going to head over to R&D, finish helping the scientists pack things away while you guys finish up here. I should be able to help them load some of the vital larger instruments that we’d rather not leave behind. I know there’s not a lot of room on that plane once we get all the people on there, but there’s a couple machines that we really don’t want Hammer getting his hands on.”

“If it looks like it’s coming to that, destroy them.” Tony didn’t look at her, watching the families board with barely-concealed worry. “We can replace anything not alive.”

She nodded and hurried out of the gym. Professional Tony she could handle for now, even if it stung that he wouldn’t even look at her. As soon as she made it outside she lifted up into the air and flew off towards the other half of the complex, drawing some amazed gasps from the children and even a few from the adults standing nearby. She landed in the central courtyard and walked straight into the frantic bustle of the research labs, grabbing the arm of the first person to walk past.

“Tell me what’s left to be done,” she demanded, and followed him into the fray. A few scientists still bustled around computer terminals, backing up data. More of them were gathering notes and hurriedly shoving them into cardboard boxes with little regard to organization. She started by checking in with the lead scientist, a geneticist named Helen Cho.

“Dr. Cho, what do you need?” Emma stepped up next to her, watching as the other woman’s hands flew across the keyboard.

“I’m doing the digital downloads right now, Dr. Thompson. If you can help pack up the paper research, we’re almost finished with this. Then you can help us transport whatever machinery we’re taking with us.” She waved Emma toward the file boxes lined up on the floor. The red-haired doctor hurried over and started stacking boxes full of paperwork onto a metal table.

Once the table was stacked eight deep and three high, she lifted it up with her abilities, and floated it out towards the plane.

It took three trips to get most of the paperwork loaded. They were loading the last of it onto the table when she heard an explosion from outside, followed by two more in short succession.

“Stark! Emma! We’ve got Iron Suits out here - a bunch of them!” The voice was Bucky’s, she heard his shout even as she made it to the open double door. She glanced up briefly, judging the distance and doing a quick count before turning back to the scientists.

Hammer. Emma wasn’t sure how she knew, but she was certain that the weapons engineer was behind this attack. “Everybody follow me! Come on, come on!” She shouted to make her voice heard over the sounds of battle outside. She led the scientists through the complex, bypassing the courtyard and taking the slightly longer route in favor of maintaining their cover. The building rattled around them with the impact of the fight, and she bit back her fear and hurried them along faster. They reached the gymnasium, the closest building to the loading doors of the S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft. But a glance outside told her that Agent May had been forced to close the ramp for the moment.

She glanced back to the group of scientists. These were some of the most brilliant minds on the planet. Several of them she had even worked with in the months leading up to the launch of the Salvation, and via telecommunication in the aftermath of it all as she and Stark did their best to understand the technology that had fused with her body and turned her into a living, breathing machine of destruction. She drew in a deep breath and turned back to them, this time not as a fellow scientist, but as an Avenger. “Everybody needs to find shelter, in case of structural damage. Our priority is to get you out of here before Hammer gets his hands on you or your research. I’m going to have to help drive them off, but someone--you. Yes, you,” she motioned towards one of the younger scientists in the front. “You need to keep a watch. If that ramp drops and you have an opening, everybody make a break for it!”

“No problem, Dr. Thompson,” the young man replied, taking up position near the door. She nodded, and then launched herself through the doors and outside.

As Tony had predicted, her earliest attempts at flight had thus far been random, straight shots at best to cover large distances or a quick tug at the magnetic fields surrounding her to pull herself away from something dangerous. But this time she flew out the doors and curved sharply, out of the way of one of the Iron Suits’ wrist lasers. She pulled up, taking a quick glance around the battlefield. Tony was engaged with at least three of the Suits, outmaneuvering them as best he could while still taking the opportunity to fire off a few shots. Bucky was on the ground, engaged with one of them in hand-to-hand combat. It was only his quickness and that metal arm of his that was keeping him going. He had grabbed one of the fists of the Suit he was fighting, and was holding it in place with a metallic grip. He dodged and weaved away from the other metal clad fist, but it was only a matter of time before he got nailed.

“Bucky, here!” She waved a hand and flung a gun towards him. He caught it with his free hand and swung it up, pressing the muzzle to a joint and pulling the trigger. Then another one swooped down towards them, and Emma lost sight of the metal-armed man. She caught the Suit with her abilities, stopping him from impacting near the plane.

“Thor! Batter up, big guy!” She flung the Iron Suit in the Asgardian warrior’s direction, and Thor swung his hammer firmly, striking the metal-clad man in the chest and sending him sailing off into oblivion - or at least several miles away.

“How many do we have left?” she called out, knowing the others would hear her over their intercoms.

“About six more, but it looks like some of them are retreating,” Bucky replied as he moved to her side, battered but ready. He watched as the Suit he’d been fighting darted further away, out of the reach of the dangerous quartet. Several of the others fell back as well, but four of them - a group of different colored Iron Suits that had previously held back as the others had airdropped in for the primary offensive - began to move forward. At least, three of the four of them did. The fourth, painted silver and gold, remained further away, hovering about twenty feet above the ground with his hands on his waist. When he began to speak, it was Justin Hammer’s voice that filled the air.

 

 


	32. Protocol

Hammer’s voice was only slightly distorted by the speakers broadcasting his words. “Well, well, well. I was hoping to beat you here, Stark. Those scientists are really going to help me out with my research. They’ll probably save me years of R&D handing over the work they did for your company. Not that my own team is doing too badly - I’ve had them working on this enhanced plastic polymer for the newest version of the suit. What do you think?” He floated a bit closer, and even though they couldn’t see his face through the visor, they could hear the smugness in his voice. “Your little protege is going to have a hard time against these, I think.”

Hammer gestured sharply. The three Suits in front of him that were made out of the plastic polymer flew directly at Emma. She tried to move them out of instinct, but just as promised the suits refused to respond to Emma’s abilities. She ran instead before twisting up into the air to avoid the stream of bullets that also appeared to be made out of something other than metal. Then Hammer motioned again and the other Suits returned, turning back to reengage with the other three Avengers now that Emma was occupied with the plastic Suits.

Three of them flew after Tony, theirs shots aiming for non-essential parts of his suit. _Guess Hammer still needs my brains_ , he thought, knowing that he’d never work for the bastard. Like Emma, it was all he could do at the moment to keep them off his heels. “Thor, buddy, how you doin’ down there?”

“I fare well, Tony. These Iron Suits may be similar in design to your own,” Thor responded as he battled two of them closer to the ground. Tossing his hammer smoothly at the ones engaging him in the air, he knocked him off his flight trajectory and back to solid ground. “But the people operating them are not as quick of mind as you, my friend.”

“Glad to know I haven’t lost my touch. How ‘bout you, Lefty?” He swung back around, dodging two of his pursuers and managing to clip one with a sharp turn around a corner that sent him spiraling in another direction. Tony’s eyes skimmed the battlefield that used to be a scientific development facility as he searched for allies.

“Fine,” Bucky grunted, rolling out of the way of a hail of ammunition from his pursuer. “Just dandy.”

As his teammates checked in, the Asgardian caught his returning hammer and twirled it. The thrust sent him flying at the flying Suit, and Thor rammed into it, his fists leading. The blow dented the metal and shoved him down to the ground. The impact rattled the man inside, knocking him out.

The other suit shot up from the ground, aiming at the Thunder God again. With a fierce grin, Thor let him close, then stilled his hammer just before the Suit reached him. His vortex gone, the godling dropped for a few seconds before he spun his hammer again and shot up into the air behind his opponent.The suit caught himself and tried to turn, but Thor caught him by the foot and spun sharply. The two built up momentum, then Thor released him. Completely disoriented, the Suit’s pilot failed to pull up before he crashed into a building.

Tony saw Emma emerge from behind the wreckage of the research laboratory and felt a knot of tension dissipate. _She’s okay_. He started toward her, only to be jerked short by his ankle. Twisting in midair, he looked back to see one of the Iron Suits had grappled him. Tony held up ihs flattened palm, prepared to blast the cord, only to have the pilot in the other Suit jet away from him suddenly. Tony was dragged behind, flailing against wind turbulence and inertia. By the time he’d freed himself with a quick shot, he’d lost track of Emma again.

The magnetist raised her hand and pulled a broken hunk of machinery out of the wreckage of the labs. With a gesture she sent it flying towards the plastic Suits that were pursuing her. The machine managed to knock one of them briefly off course, but it soon righted itself and resumed the chase. “Guys, I need some help here,” she called out over the intercom. She tried not to sound panicky, but they could hear the strain in her voice. “I’m practically useless against these things!”

“Hold fast, Emma. I am at your service.” Thor watched her trajectory for a brief moment as he spun his hammer in the air, and then he released it. It collided with one of the plastic suits, smashing it with enough strength to not only damage the tough outer casing, but probably to have broken bones of the unfortunate pilot.

Tony saw the plastic Suit go whizzing through the air and slam into the side of the building. He pulled up and glanced around, looking for Emma, but in that moment one of his own pursuers took the opportunity to swing back around and launch a missile in his general direction. If he’d been further away it would’ve been fine, but he was too close and Tony knew he didn’t have enough time to react.

He braced himself for the suck, but it never connected with him. The missile veered off at the last minute as Emma took control of the metal projectile. It curved sharply and then picked up speed, chasing after one of the two remaining plastic Suits that were still on Emma’s trail. Then she stopped abruptly, turning mid-air towards her two pursuers. They pulled up and aimed, but she’d turned only to make sure the missile reached it’s target. It slammed into one of the two suits, exploding on impact and taking one of her pursuers with it. The other one flew out of the way of the blast and escaped unharmed.

Down below, Bucky was still locked in combat with his Suit. This particular guy was quicker than the others, so they’d been trading glancing blows the entire time. Finally, the Winter Soldier saw his opportunity. He struck hard, a solid punch to the Suit’s midsection. It left a fist-sized dent in the metal armor, and without pausing Bucky pulled out a grenade, flicked the pin out, and shoved it in the dented space. Before the Suit could realize what had happened Bucky bolted, putting enough distance between himself and the unfortunate soul who was about to become shrapnel.

The explosion below followed the one up above by mere moments. Tony took the opportunity in the confusion to knock out one of his own with a hit from his repulsor beam, then to fire off one of his own missiles at his last pursuer. It struck, knocking the last Iron Suit out of the sky.

That left only the final plastic Suit, the one that was still pursuing Emma. Thor started to spin Mjolnir again, but up above Emma was making her own preparations. As she flew through the air she reached down and pulled out her two metal collapsible rods. She spun around and shot them both towards the Suit. He lifted his own arm in defense and it looked as if he was about to fire something off, but the metal rods struck first, piercing through the suit. Tony and the others watched as his body jerked back, but before he started to fall, he extended his fist. A small turret popped out of the arm and pointed at her.

It sounded like a small explosion, or the boom of a cannon that had just gone off. There was no explosion, but the effect hit Emma full blast. Pain lanced through her head, and she could no longer hear anything but a loud ringing in her ears. She could even feel herself falling, her body careening to the ground at an alarming rate but the knowledge of how to stop it eluded her. It was only brief thoughts, flickering through her mind too quickly to grab on to.

Tony heard the sonic cannon sound and turned, just as Emma fell. He jetted toward her, his repulsors firing almost before he’d thought about it. He could feel his gaze narrowing down to her falling body; nothing else mattered to him in that moment.

He caught her within a few feet of the pavement. The final plastic Suit hit the ground not far from them, Emma’s metal rods protruding from his body. Thor and Bucky hurried towards them quickly, making their way across the paved campus.

“Is she alright?” Bucky asked, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

Just as he asked she let out a soft cry, her face contorting in pain. She curled up tighter in Tony’s metal-clad arms, then lifted her hands to her ears and pressed them there as if doing so would somehow blot out the painful, ceaseless ringing. Dark red blood trickled through her fingers, falling in little drops onto the ground.

“No,” Tony replied tersely, glancing around at the destruction. “Hammer’s long gone. Get the scientists, we need to get out of here.”

He watched as his two fellow Avengers ushered Tony’s remaining employees into the now-open ramp of the transport plane. He carried a still-whimpering Emma up the ramp and then passed her off reluctantly to Thor. In his earpiece he could hear Agent May directing Thor and one of the medical scientists towards the labs where she could be properly treated. Then, as the plane began to lift and the ramp began to close, Iron Man aimed and fired on the complex over and over, until there was nothing left but rubble and May’s course had blocked his targeting. He told himself it was because he wanted to make sure that the destruction would be sufficient to prevent Hammer from retrieving anything when he returned. Really he just felt like blowing something up.

~ * ~ * ~

Tony spent the rest of the day dealing with the transfer of the scientists and their research to Sanctuary. Coulson was ready and waiting with a medical team upon their arrival, and the metal-clad Avenger laid Emma out on a stretcher where she was rushed to the underground treatment facilities for evaluation. After his third check-in, he was advised by the head of staff that Dr. Thompson had been stabilized and examined, and needed rest before anything could be determined more conclusively.

When they finally cleared him to visit her, she was asleep. Grunting in irritation, he dropped into a chair and put his feet up on her bed. “Wake up,” he muttered, but there was no real intention of waking her. He just wanted to see that she was okay.

After five minutes, he was bored. Sighing, he gazed at the ceiling, his mind a whirl of thoughts. The scientists had been seen to, and settled in Sanctuary. Jane was already drawing them into the Think Tank. Most of them should have already been there, but the truth was that the more people they added to their secret base, the greater the chance it wouldn’t remain a secret.

 _Thanks, Hammer, for forcing my hand._ He watched her sleep for a few more minutes, and slowly realized he wasn’t just worried about her physical health. He was also wondering what the hell had gotten into her the last couple of days. He’d done something the night of his black-out, and he couldn’t remember what. It was obviously bad - she was refusing to talk about it. _Did I . . .?_ The thought that he might have somehow forced her or hurt her made him queasy.

“JARVIS, I need you to pull up the video feed for the Avenger’s Place, the night of Cap’s funeral.” At least he’d said those words without choking up or getting pissed. _Who says I can’t let go and heal?_

“Yes, Sir.” The program uploaded the video feed to his tablet. Tony watched in silence, frowning at just _how_ drunk he was. _I haven’t been that bad since I thought I was dying._

_The whole world is dying. I think you’re justified._

As he watched Emma come in and calm him down, he didn’t really believe that anymore. He was getting an inkling about what he may have done when the screen went blank. Confused, Tony jumped the cursor back, watching more closely.

“ _I can’t . . . I don’t see how it gets better, Em. The Iron Suits . . . Bruce and Steve . . . Pep-”_ Tony winced a little at how sodden he was, but then the feed went black, saving him from nasty self-evaluation. “JARVIS? Where’s the rest of it?”

“The rest of it is locked from viewing under the privacy protocols.”

Tony groaned. “Why did I let Pepper talk me into those?” His AI sounded almost regretful, but Tony knew that he couldn’t cajole the program into giving it up. “So, what do I need to do to gain access?”

“You’ll need Dr. Thompson’s permission for me to show you the remaining video.”

JARVIS’s announcement sent a ripple of surprise through him. The protocols had been set up to prevent material of an intimate nature from being recorded and released. If Tony hadn’t agreed to it, he would have never gotten laid again. Pepper called it her sex-tape insurance. “So,” he said uneasily, “Emma and I had sex?”

“The protocols cover a number of situations,” JARVIS reminded him.

“Great.” Tony sighed and glanced at Emma again. _What did I do to you? Why won’t you tell me?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of notes last update. I (Malachite) was travelling that day and just barely had time to get the chapter itself up. We've manage to build a small buffer up again and are trying more actively to set aside time each week to write. :) We're good for a couple more weeks, at least, before there's any chance of a delay. Thanks for reading and please leave us comments! We'd love to hear from you!


	33. Earglasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday, guys! My little girl has a tooth now! (First time mom = has to tell everyone inane things. ;) ) Enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> ~Malachite

“We’ll know more in a couple days. I’m about to speak with Emma, explain things to her a little more. I think Mr. Stark is on his way down, too. But rest assured Agent Barton, she’s our top priority right now,” Emma’s doctor explained. She was a friendly sort, a spritely older woman whose pixie-cut reddish-blonde hair was just starting to turn a bit grey. She was managing to juggle a whiteboard and easel, as well as a couple dry erase markers and a file folder.

“Thanks, doc,” Clint replied. The door to Emma’s room opened, and Natasha slipped out into the hallway with them. “We won’t hold you up any longer then, but keep us posted, okay?”

She nodded, and smiled gratefully as Clint opened the door for her. He closed it quietly out of reflex, even though it apparently didn’t matter to Emma at the moment.

“Well that doesn’t sound good,” the master archer commented as they made their way towards the hospital’s exit.

“No,” Natasha replied, “it certainly doesn’t. Do you think Stark knows yet?”

“He must. He’s been locked up in his labs for over thirty-six hours, last I checked.” They stopped in front of the elevator, and he tapped the down button. “The last time I tried to get ahold of him, JARVIS informed me that unless it’s an emergency situation he’s not even taking messages.”

The chime sounded and the doors opened. The two former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stepped into the elevator, and Natasha pressed the button for the first floor as the doors closed and the elevator began its descent. “Really?” She mulled it over for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I don’t remember the last time he spent that kind of time in a lab.”

“Not since they captured Emma after the Sanctuary disaster, and he was trying to suppress the nanites so she could regain control,” Clint replied. “Before that? Hell… probably that time he spent making that thing for Pepper, for her birthday. I don’t even remember exactly what it was.”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened with another chime. Tony was standing there, holding a small white box and looking like he hadn’t slept in awhile. “Hey guys,” he greeted them as he placed his hand in front of the elevator door to make sure it wouldn’t close. Clint and Natasha stepped out and he stepped in, pressing the button for Emma’s floor. “Catch you later.”

The doors closed with a ding, and the two spies glanced at one another, eyebrows arched. Natasha glanced up at the numbers, watching as the digital display changed with the passing of each floor. “Yeah,” she murmured thoughtfully, “I guess that was the last time.”

~ * ~ * ~

Tony opened the door to the hospital room. Emma’s doctor was in the process of setting up a whiteboard on an easel at the foot of the hospital bed when he walked in. His eyes flickered towards Emma, who was lying still in the bed with her eyes closed just like the last time he’d been here to visit.

“Hey Doc. She sleeping again?” He moved over to the side of the bed and pulled the chair closer, dropping down into it. He sat the box he’d been carrying down on the end table next to the bed.

“No, she’s awake. She’s just experiencing a bit of vertigo along with the tinnitus, so we advised her to close her eyes if it was bothering her,” she replied, finishing with the easel. She walked over to Emma and reached down, touching her gently on the arm. Emma’s eyes flickered open, resting on the doctor for a moment before glancing around the rest of the room. When her eyes fixed on Tony she smiled, looking relieved to see a familiar face.

Tony smiled back at her, doing his best to hide his concern. _Whatever I did couldn’t have been that bad, could it? Not if she’s smiling at me._

“Hey! You’re here--” she said, a bit too loudly. She started to sit up but a pained expression flickered across her face, and she reached out to grab something as if to steady herself. Tony caught her hand, half-rising out of his chair and placing his other hand on her back to stabilize her.

“Whoa, whoa. Careful,” he said, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. She glanced back up at him, her face looking a bit paler and more strained than just a moment ago.

“Sorry,” she replied, the volume of her words still louder than normal conversation. “My ears won’t stop ringing, I can’t hear anything else. It makes me feel dizzy, and kind of sick.”

Emma’s doctor reached for her again, touching her arm to draw her attention. She turned towards the other woman, who smiled at her reassuringly. She picked up the bed controls, adjusting it to an upright position so that Emma would still be sitting up but would have the support of the bed behind her. Then she held up a dry-erase marker so that Emma could see, and started to walk over to the whiteboard she’d set up.

“Oh, hey - hold up,” Tony said, reaching over to the box on the nightstand. He picked it up, then squeezed Emma’s hand to get her attention back. When she turned towards him he held it out to her. “Open it,” he instructed, gesturing to the box to make sure she understood.

She smiled at him a little quizzically, then turned to the simple white box. Her fingers pried it open, and reached inside. Then she pulled out the contents, a small hardshell case made out of dark blue embossed leather. She opened it up, revealing a pair of sleek-looking glasses. They were silver and rimless along the bottom of the lenses, but with a small bit of metal that wrapped around, partially obscuring the right lens and ending with a small rectangle of clear glass. She glanced up at him again with an arched eyebrow.

“You know it’s my hearing that’s messed up, not my vision, right?” She shot him a small smirk, but her voice was teasing.

“Just put them on, smart ass” he replied, gesturing impatiently towards the glasses. She shrugged slightly, but apparently she got the idea because she picked up the glasses and unfolded the temples. Then she slipped them on and looked up at Tony. He reached forward and pressed a small button on the right side of the glasses, just behind the hinge. She blinked in surprise as a small loading screen flickered across her vision with the words, disappearing after a moment. When she glanced up at Tony again he began to speak, and this time she could see his speech translated into words that scrolled across her line of sight.

“There, that should help. Is it working?” he asked, looking pleased at her nod of confirmation. “Great. So, here’s the deal. This works primarily as a voice-to-text translator, but it has some other functions as well. It’s based off of some stuff I use in the suit, but I modified it and streamlined it as much as possible so it wouldn’t be too bulky. There should be some little fluctuating bars in the bottom right-hand corner of your screen - those are noise level sensors, so you can tell how loud something is or isn’t. That includes your own voice, so you’ll be able to monitor your personal volume as well and you won’t keep accidentally shouting at everyone.”

“Thanks--” she started to reply sardonically, her voice still raised at first. He saw her blink a little in surprise as the bars fluctuated higher, showing her how much louder she was speaking in comparison to him. Her expression shifted, becoming slightly embarrassed and a bit contrite. “Thanks. That’s going to be helpful, I see.”

His lips curved at the corner in an amused smirk, and she rolled her eyes. “Okay, anything else?” she asked, her volume a bit more regulated now.

“Yeah. It will also alert you to peripheral sounds that you can’t hear. There should be a little red light that flashes in the upper right hand or left hand corner of the screen, based on where the noise is coming from. That works if someone new is speaking too, though it’ll start translating immediately. If you have multiple speakers then it’ll use differing text colors so that you can keep track of who’s who. I’ve also linked it into the team’s comm system, just in case. And the brightness of the flash indicates the loudness of the noise. Here, watch.” He leaned forward a bit, moving his hand to the side of her face past her line of sight. Her eyes followed his hand for a moment, then flicked back to his face. He snapped his fingers and her head turned, a reaction to the small flash of red light on her screen.

She turned back to him, a grateful smile on her face. “Thanks, Tony. How long have I been out? It had to take you awhile to make this.”

“Nah, not really. You forget who you’re dealing with here?” He grinned charmingly, a bit surprised at how relieved he was to see her smiling again.

“Well, that’s going to make this a lot easier,” the doctor chimed in, interrupting the brief moment between the two. Emma turned her head towards the doctor as she began to speak, reinforcing Tony’s satisfaction that the glasses were indeed working properly and alerting her to off-screen noise. “I wanted to explain your injuries to you a little further, Dr. Thompson, and discuss the healing process and prognosis.”

“Go ahead,” Emma stated with a little nod. Tony drew in a deep breath, settling back into his chair to watch her reaction. He’d heard most of this already, after the exam they’d conducted when she first woke up. It’s what had prompted him to spend the last day and a half buried in his labs, working on the glasses.

“First of all, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Dr. Austin, I’m an ENT specialist. Do you remember much about what happened while you were out in the field?”

Emma considered it for a moment, looking thoughtful. Then she shook her head, her expression a bit frustrated. “No, not really. I mean, I remember we were fighting a bunch of Iron Suits. Then I think I remember-- Hammer, right? He was there. And he had special suits, ones that weren’t made out of metal. I remember them chasing me, but… that’s it, really.”

“Well, according to your teammates you were the target of a focused sonic attack from one of the new suits. It knocked you clear out of the sky. It’s a good thing Mr. Stark here was fast enough to catch you before you hit the ground,” she added with a small smile.

Emma glanced back at Tony, who shrugged slightly. Before Emma could say anything to him the doctor started speaking again, and Emma turned back to focus on the rest of it.

“Upon arriving back here after the mission, you presented with pain, bleeding from your ears, and tinnitus - that ringing sound in your ears - all as a result of the auditory trauma you received. Once we got you sedated and cleaned up, we were able to examine the inner ear a bit more.” She reached over and picked up a remote, then pushed aside the whiteboard to reveal a blank section of wall. She pressed a couple of buttons on the remote, and images sprung to life on the white wall. She cycled through them as she continued to speak, pointing out areas of interest that corresponded with what she was talking about.

“These are the images we were able to get. You’ve experienced damage to both the eardrum and the cochlea. While those injuries were severe, it is your middle ear that took the brunt of the damage. The sonic blast effectively pulverised all three bones that make up the middle ear.” She pressed the remote again, and the images disappeared from the wall. When she turned back to Emma, her voice was less clinical, and more sympathetic. “The eardrum will most likely heal over, and even the damage to the cochlea might heal on its own. The damage to the inner ear is permanent and without the bones...” She sighed and finished, “You’ll be deaf for the rest of your life.”

“Deaf?” Emma replied, leaning back into the bed with a stunned look on her face. She stared at the doctor for a moment, not saying anything. Then she pulled her legs up so that she was sitting crosslegged on the bed. Her eyes closed and she curled up a bit into herself, her elbows resting on her knees and her forehead pressed against her palms.

Dr. Austin waited patiently, her expression sympathetic, until she saw Emma’s eyes open again and knew that the other woman would see her words on the screen that Stark had outfitted her with. “Dr. Thompson, I know I just gave you a lot to take in. Do you have any questions, or would you just like some time to digest? I can come back in and follow-up with you a bit later, make sure you’re doing okay.”

“Yeah. That’s fine,” she replied, her voice sounding strained. “Later is fine.”

The older doctor nodded, and gathered her things together quickly, including the white board. Then she slipped out of the room quietly, leaving Tony and Emma alone together in bleak silence.

~ * ~ * ~

“Verun.” Bucky called her name softly when he rounded the corner and found her talking to Loki.

The mind magician turned at his voice, a smile replacing the irritation that had been filling her expression. Next to her, Loki just rolled his eyes when he saw her naked pleasure at seeing the human. “Yes?” she answered, walking gladly toward him and meeting him halfway.

He knew he was smiling just as widely. “I need to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Of course,” she said.

“I guess I’ll just wait for you be done, then,” Loki snapped sharply.

His sister glared at him. “You have made it impossible to come to a resolution that pleases you. Until you yield somewhat, you’ll be disappointed. As for me, I’m tired of chasing you ‘round in pointless circles.”

As they walked away, Bucky murmured, “What was that about?”

“He wishes something from Zoe, and I refuse to risk her health to please him.” A corner of her mouth twitched up in wry amusement. “He’s not used to being told no by anyone other than his father.”

“Nice. I knew guys like that in the Army.” They didn’t last long, especially when they thought they knew better than their superiors. He steered her down the halls and into his room. “Sorry about this,” he murmured as he shut the door behind them. “I’ll try not to keep you, so that people don’t start getting the wrong idea.”

A modern woman would have laughed at his automatic assumptions about appearance but she just nodded. “I assume it’s important,” she said softly.

“It is.” Bucky pointed at the stand near the door, drawing her eyes to the round shield. On the chair next to it was a familiar uniform, neatly folded. “They brought that today. Said they’d resized it, like I could just pick it up and put it on.”

The Vanir woman approached the shield, stopping just short of touching it. “Your friend - Steve - he wanted this for you.”

“Doesn’t it matter what I want?” he asked then shook his head. “Sorry, I’m whining. I just feel like I’m not worthy of it.”

“He didn’t ask you because of your worth.” Verun brushed a finger over the edge, surprised at how warm the metal felt. “He asked because he wanted you to do it. He wants his legacy to continue, and he doesn’t want a stranger to carry it.”

“Captain America was more than Steve, though. He’s a symbol of patriotism and hope.” Bucky sighed softly. “I don’t feel either.”

“But you said it was bigger than your friend, and that means it’s bigger than you.” Verun smiled. “A symbol can be more than a person - it is safe from the failings of one man.”

“They want to hide that he’s gone.” Bucky sighed and shifted uneasily. “Captain America has to be seen, but people will think it’s Steve. What if I screw that up?”

“Then people will know it’s you.” Until this point, they’d kept a proper distance between them, but now she walked inside his bubble of personal space. Bucky swallowed at her proximity, very aware that they were alone. Her green eyes shone as she murmured, “And they will know that you can be Captain America, too.”

“It still feels wrong,” he whispered, wanting to kiss her and knowing it would be improper.

“Then let the symbol die.” She spoke gently but her words hurt. “Steve would never force you to do this.”

That was true. For a long moment, he thought about what she’d said. Then he tried to imagine a world without Steve.

It was easy: it was a world shaped by HYDRA and their mad dreams.

“I don’t know how to use the shield like him,” he said, aware that he was grasping at straws.

“I’ll help you,” she promised, laying her hand on his arm. His skin burned with desire as she added, “If you want to keep his symbol alive to the world, I will however I can.”

 


	34. Bad Taste

It had been quiet for just over two weeks, and the guardian of Sanctuary couldn't be happier. Clint liked peace and calm. He liked the lack of action that his current position offered. Some days he thought that made him old but most of the time he just felt content.

He sipped his coffee and considered what to do first. He could visit Emma in the clinic, or maybe he should check with Requisition and see how the supplies were holding out after their infusion of new people.

A shriek echoed down the hall, and Clint dropped his mug and broke into a run. The nursery was around the corner, and visions of a HYDRA attack in among the youngest and weakest members of his city were a constant nightmare for the archer. He had his bow out as he flew around the corner, ready for anything.

Anything, it seemed, except the sight of Natasha glowering down at a nanny, who was leaning against a wall and hyperventilating, her morning coffee spreading in a dark stain on the floor around her. It seemed to be a theme this morning. “What’s going on?” Clint asked, frowning.

“She popped out of the vent at me!” the nursery worker gasped, her blue eyes wide. “I almost had a heart attack.”

“I came to visit James,” Natasha said coolly, but he’d heard that tone before. She was upset about something.

“So was I. Do you mind if I come along?” The archer patted the nanny on her arm and steered Natasha deeper into the suite of rooms set aside for the smalls. “So . . . we have these new things called doors. I hear they work great.”

“I was testing her reflexes.” Natasha didn’t crack a smile. “They’re lacking.”

“That’s because she’s trained to catch drool, not assassins.” He looked sideways at her, noting subtle lines of tension in her expression. Others may not have caught it but he knew her better than most, and he’d been seeing it a lot in the two weeks since Steve’s death. “Nat, you know that. It’s not her job to defend the kids. That’s our job.”

“She’s the last line of defense, and I wanted to know how good she was,” the former assassin said stubbornly.

“Right.” He let it go at that, for now, but he wasn’t gonna forget it. This was a classic sign of trouble to come and he wanted to get ahead of it. That’s why, after he’d seen his nephew and made sure that James’s mother wasn’t going to scare the caregivers, he went right to Sam.

“I’m not surprised she’s having problems. It’s only been two weeks.” The Falcon sighed heavily, looking sad. He leaned back in his desk chair, his paperwork dropped in favor of talking to the archer.

“I get it. She’s lost her husband,” Clint said heatedly, “and James is their kid. It’s like a little piece of Steve running around.”

“It’s more than that.” Sam tilted his head. “She’s lost someone close. The fact that it was her partner in life, one of her main supporters, only makes it that much harder to deal with. Her entire psyche is afraid of losing someone else. Subconsciously, she’s fixated on protected the person in her life least able to protect himself.”

The former SHIELD agent mulled over those words. “Your way of saying that is much fancier than mine. So how do I help her?”

“If she’ll talk, listen. Honestly, providing a guard in the nursery might help. Anything that at least gives her the appearance of further security for James.” Sam ground his palm into his eye feeling the lack of sleep. “I mean, I’m having nightmares about it, and I wasn’t even there. I can’t imagine what she’s feeling.”

“I can only imagine it, since she won’t talk about it.” Clint frowned for a moment. “All right, thanks, man.”

“Hey, one last thing.” The younger man met his gaze somberly. “You can’t fix this for her. The only cure for this is time.”

Clint’s communicator beeped in his ear. “Yeah?” he said, turning his head.

“Come and get her now.” The daycare worker’s voice was hard and full of fury. “I don’t care what you do with her, but _get her out of my nursery!_ ”

“I’ll be right there.” Wearily, he rolled his eyes up to gaze at the ceiling. “Sam, I gotta go. Thanks again.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

“They’re too sensitive.” Natasha stared at Clint evenly as if she hadn’t just uttered the most insane thing he’d ever heard her say.

“Sure, they’re too sensitive to an assassin hiding in vents and leaping out at them.” Clint gave her a gimlet stare which she returned with a cold glare. He broke before she did; he wasn’t up to poking the tiger directly today, not without a lot more coffee in him. “Anyway, I need your help.”

The redheaded woman relaxed immediately when he made it clear he wasn’t here to lecture her, which was when the archer knew that she was somewhat aware of her psychotic overreactions. “What?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Do you need someone to patrol?”

“No, I need Phil off my back about Zoe.” Clint nodded in agreement at her assessing look. “Apparently she has pretty bad taste in men and he’s convinced that she’s obsessed with Loki.”

“Maybe because she is,” Natasha pointed out.

“Wait, what?” Clint blinked a few times, but when Natasha didn’t yell _Gotcha!_ he asked, “What makes you say that?”

“The way she looks at him and defends him.” She shrugged. “He saved her life and rescued her from hell. He did it for his own selfish reasons but she doesn’t know him enough to know that. He’s charming and handsome, oh, and a prince of an alien realm - that’s the trifectia of sexy male. Add in his bad boy vibe, and of course she’s infatuated.”

“So you’ll keep an eye on her when they’re training?” he asked.

Natasha hesitated. “I should be watching James.”

“I’ve posted a guard at the nursery,” Clint said quickly.

“Make it two and you have a deal.” Her expression made it clear she wouldn’t be moved.

“Two guards.” The archer breathed a little sigh as she walked away. _I hope she gets over this fast. I don’t have the resources to keep guarding the most secure part of Sanctuary._

~  *  ~  *  ~

Zoe hit the mat, hard, and Loki danced back from her, his green eyes glinting with glee. “That is another for me. What is that, twenty-four?”

Across the room, Bucky and Verun looked up from their sparring session, checking to be sure that Zoe was okay. When she didn’t start bleeding or screaming for a medic, they returned their attention to their activities: teaching Bucky to use the shield.

Zoe made a face at him, groaning and covering her face with her hand. “Look, you get to keep count when you don’t have, like, a bajilion years of experience on me.”

“Only a thousand.” He watched as she climbed to her feet, noticeably failing to help her get up. “Let’s not exaggerate. Come, try that again. It’s a simple throw.”

“Oh, excuse me. A _thousand_ years. Because that’s not utterly ridiculous _at all_ ,” she groused. She tried to space her feet like Verun had shown her and lower her center of balance; all the yoga she’d learned during college helped, but she still felt like a bumbling toddler next to the way-too-perfectly-preserved ancient alien siblings and metal-armed former assassin.

“It’s not ridiculous. It’s the Asgardian lifespan.” He looked vaguely offended, but the effect was lost in the general smugness coating his expression.

“Asgardians _are_ ridiculous,” she shot back.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the door opened, and Clint and Natasha entered the room. The former looked annoyed and upset, while the latter looked calm. “Zoe, Phil wanted you to train with Tasha, so here she is.”

“She’s training with me,” Loki said haughtily, already turning away from them.

“Uh huh. I was talking to Zoe.” The archer barely looked at him before returning his sharp gaze to the woman.

“C’mhere.” He waved her over to his side, then looped a friendly arm over her shoulder. Loki glared as he steered her firmly away from the others, but Zoe just looked bemused as the mockingly solicitous way he was treating her. He dropped his voice into a whisper and said, “Look, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Just distract her for _two_ hours, please.”

Her eyes went wide and answered him in the same soft whisper. “You do realize that you’re asking me to babysit what I’ve been told is the world’s foremost assassin?” Her voice might have squeaked a little on the last word. Just a little.

The archer paused, regrouping his thoughts. “It’s not as hard as it sounds, I promise,” he murmured firmly.

Zoe glanced over at the rest of the room where Bucky and Natasha were watching each other warily and Loki was glaring at her and Clint. “Can I just toss Loki at her?” she whispered to him, a small smirk playing on her lips. “I still owe him for the Pied Piper incident.”

At any other time, Clint would have said no. However, the Widow had just gotten done terrorizing nannies, who were basically one step above mothers, and he wasn’t feeling generous toward his friend. “Sure. Knock - er, uh, go ahead. Just don’t let them kill one another - or if you have to choose, choose the one who isn’t a parent.”

“Nah. If they get out of hand, I’ll just sic Verun on them. She has the _best_ ‘I win’ button,” Zoe grinned with an evil delight. She got a thoughtful look and tapped her lips, considering. “I wonder if I can get her to teach it to me.”

“Right, I’m sure I don’t want to know what it is.” Stepping away from the white-haired woman, Clint headed for the door. “Hey, Tasha, don’t go easy on him.”

“My pleasure,” she purred, turning to face Loki.

“As if you could physically injure me.” The godling sneered.

Zoe frowned at Loki and called out, “He’s being a jerk. Kick his ass, Black Widow!” She let out a laugh at the startled looks on both their faces.

Across the room, Bucky paused, his eyes on the three others. His moment of distraction ended when a staff butt swept toward his head. He barely got the shield up in time, the golden haft bouncing off the red and white rings. “You’re not paying attention,” Verun lightly chided.

“No, I’m not.” Bucky managed a smile but he still felt wrong taking up the shield. “I actually kinda want to see this fight, if we can take a break.”

“Of course.” Verun was watching the two fighters starting to circle. “It will be a short break.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He remembered what he’d been told about the Black Widow. Even as the Winter Soldier, he’d been warned to avoid close combat with her. Verun didn’t argue with him; her skepticism became interest and she watched them with renewed attention.

The circling ended suddenly when Loki closed with Natasha. She didn’t try to engage with him directly; instead, she grabbed his arm and twisted, throwing him well past her. The jotun prince rolled and came up his feet, his eyes wide with surprise.

A second later, he narrowed them, taking a careful step toward her. Natasha grinned smugly and gestured for him to engage her. “No,” he said, “you attack me.”

“I don’t think anyone’s invited me to do that before.” She leapt forward and then dropped, sliding between his legs and grabbing an ankle. His foot was wrenched backwards but he caught himself on his hands and a single foot.

He pulled his foot back under him and jerked her toward him; he was turning and preparing to stomp on her when she somehow twisted her body straight up and kicked him in the jaw. It didn’t hurt but it did snap his head back and sent him stumbling a few feet. By the time he regained his balance, she was on her feet, too, smirking at him.

“Ooooo!” Zoe laughed again and clapped her hands in appreciation. “I _definitely_ need to learn that one!”

“Yet all this dancing around would not win you the day. You can’t hurt me,” Loki pointed out arrogantly, even as the tips of his ears turned red. “Eventually, you would tire and I would win.”

“Probably.” Her smirk became fierce. “But I’m not trying, either.” He glared at her. “C’mon, Loki, we both know I have your number. We’ve known that since the helicarrier.”

Loki flushed brightly. “That sounds like a story,” Bucky murmured, breaking the silence.

“Oh, it is.” Natasha smiled brightly. “Perhaps I’ll share it someday. Now, Zoe, I want to show you a few tricks.” She glanced at Loki and added, “Would you like to join us?”

Suspicious clouded his features. “You would show me how you defeated me?”

“I can’t show you that, but I can help your fighting, too.” Natasha knew Clint would have her head for that, but she knew something he didn’t. She’d talked to Thor about his brother, and isolating and embittering Loki would only feed his delusions of persecution. Better to let him feel somewhat involved in Sanctuary. Maybe it would prevent him from betraying them at the first chance he got.


	35. Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, it's been one of those days. Enjoy (note the new tag!) and please comment! :)

“Honestly, the rate at which you’re healing is remarkable.” Dr. Austin flipped through the chart again, as if double-checking the information that it contained. “We normally expect the eardrums to take two to three months to recover, but yours have healed almost completely in just under four weeks.”

“That’s awesome, Emma.” Clint clapped her on the back, looking relieved. “The gift of fast healing is a good thing to have when you’re an Avenger.”

Tony shot him a sharp look over Emma’s head, but she smiled at Sanctuary’s head of security, looking pleased. “Thanks, Clint.”

“How are your ASL sessions going?” the doctor asked, leaning back in her chair and setting down Emma’s file to focus on the young woman.

“Well enough, I suppose.” Emma shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “It almost seems unnecessary, with the glasses.”

“The glasses are an amazing invention, you’re very fortunate. But you’re an educated woman, Dr. Thompson, and I’m sure you’d agree that it’s a good idea not to be too reliant upon technology.” Dr. Austin glanced at the two men in the room; Tony of course, and Clint, who had been to visit Emma more than anyone else besides Stark and whom Emma was starting to regard as a good friend. “It would be beneficial if those closest to you make an attempt to learn as well. Just in case.”

“I feel as if my technological prowess is being maligned,” Tony quipped.

“Hardly, Mr. Stark,” Dr. Austin replied, her expression amused. “But unless you’re going to figure out a way to permanently affix them to her head, there’s always the chance that she may find herself without them at some point.”

“Nonsense. When Tony Stark gives a woman a gift, she never lets it out of her sight.” The billionaire spoke flippantly.

Emma couldn’t hear the playful arrogance in his voice, but she turned to him and arched a brow nonetheless. After a moment she lifted her hands into the air and began to gesture purposefully, if a bit haltingly.

Tony replied in ASL as he said, “You shouldn’t say that to your boss. You might get fired, and I give good dental.”

Clint choked and coughed loudly into his fist, while Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. A blush crept across her cheeks, and she cleared her throat self-consciously. “I didn’t know you knew ASL.”

“I didn’t, but I didn’t want to resort to the pen-and-paper game with you - I prefer to play doctor if I have to pick a game.” He grinned inappropriately and added, “Besides, I had some time in between designing Mark one-fifteen and making your spectacular glasses, so I thought why not?”

“Excellent,” Dr. Austin interjected smoothly, though she was doing her best to suppress a smile. “I’d like to follow up with you in a couple months for a final examination. Other than that, unless something changes I see no reason that you can’t resume your life as normal at this point. Do you have any--”

She was interrupted by Tony’s phone as it buzzed to life. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen, which flashed with his symbol that indicated he was being alerted by his AI. “JARVIS, what’s going on? What? Where? Well, I guess it could have been worse, like Mississippi. We’ll be right there. Tell the others to suit up.”

Clint and Emma had turned to him, listening (or reading, in Emma’s case) Tony’s half of the conversation. He started towards the door as soon as he hung up the phone, but Clint caught him by the arm before he made it very far.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his grip on Stark’s arm tense. “Is everything okay?”

“Aliens,” Tony answered sharply, his voice full of tension. “In Missouri, in the burbs on the outskirts of Kansas City, of all places. And apparently they have the Tesseract.”

Clint let go of Tony’s arm, and they started towards the door. Emma stood and followed them out, hurrying to keep up with the conversation.

“Are they hostile?” she asked, her voice full of trepidation. Everyone on the planet had reason to be cautious of aliens at this point, but Emma had more reason than most.

“Not so far, though an alarm has been sounded and the police are en route to the location.” JARVIS responded through the speaker of Tony’s phone, apparently still connected.

Clint pushed the door to the clinic open with a bang. “I think we’d better send in the welcoming committee, just in case. You two better suit up and get ready, I’ll meet you and the others at the gate to the landing pad with more info.’” Before either of them had a chance to respond he was gone, hurrying towards the main buildings.

“Right. You heard him, we’d better get going,” Emma replied, and began to hurry back towards the Avenger’s building.

“We?” Tony caught her arm. “Maybe you should, uh, stay here until you feel better.”

“Feel better?” She frowned at him quizzically. “Tony, I feel fine. You heard the doctor, my eardrums have healed over. The vertigo and the ringing is gone. This is as good as it gets.”

He struggled for the right words before giving up and going for blunt. “You are deaf. Battle is more dangerous for you now. Maybe you should sit this out.”

She stared at him a moment, a hurt expression flickering across her face. “You don’t think I’m cut out to be an Avenger anymore?”

“I think maybe you should take some time to get used to your condition.” To Tony’s credit, he looked truly concerned for her.

Her expression softened, and she stepped closer to him. “I’ve had a month, Tony. I’ve adjusted as well as can be expected. I mean, it’s going to take me awhile to learn sign language, but thanks to the glasses I’m as prepared as I realistically can be.”

“I get that you’ve worked hard on this but you were just hurt on your last mission.” He put both of his hands on her shoulders. “Give yourself some more time.”

“I don’t need any more time!” she snapped, and then caught herself and drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just worried, and I appreciate it, Tony. A month ago, you told me that I was ready. That the world needed me. I don’t see how that’s changed. I know I’m going to have to get used to this, but I’m still me. I can still move metal with my mind. I can still fight, and fly. I’m not going to stop helping people just because I can’t hear them anymore.”

She saw his jaw clench, and the way the worry was reflected in his eyes.  She drew in a breath and reached forward, catching one of his hands with hers. “We don’t even know if these aliens are hostile, but if it helps, I promise I’ll try and skirt the edges if things get rough. I just… I need this. I need to know I’m still useful, Tony. Please.”

“You are still useful, even if you never step onto the field again.” He pointed up and vaguely south, toward Missouri and the waiting aliens. “Your value as an Avenger has nothing to do with whether you throw a punch or not. You know who else is an Avenger? Phil. Lemme tell how many times he’s gone into combat with us. None. He’s still an Avenger, and he still has value. To us. To me. And if you ever tell him I said that, I’ll infect your nanoprobes with a virus that will make you hear Britney Spears twenty-four seven, working ears or no. But I think you see my point.”

Her lips twitched in amusement, but her expression stayed resolute. “I’m going, Stark. Or have you forgotten that you trained me for this?  Dealing with space and all it’s glorious inhabitants? Just because it’s happening here instead of up there doesn’t mean it’s not my specialty. Now c’mon. Let’s not keep our visitors waiting.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

Ashley’s morning had been wretched and full of assery. First, she’d found a text from her boyfriend from last night, drunkenly asserting that she should come over for sex or be ‘fired’. He had yet to answer his phone, and she just knew the fucker had found a booty call when she hadn’t come over. It wasn’t her fault she’d slept through the text notification! Then her coffee had been black, and traffic had sucked, and she’d been ten minutes late.

So when the aliens had just appeared in the plaza in front of the bank, she just couldn’t even. The one guy was kinda cute, in a badass red jacket but the other guy was a red-skinned, muscle-bound freak. The woman was green-skinned and armed, and Ashley realized that she was looking at a female Hulk. The guy Hulk had already been killed, thankfully, so was the girl one his daughter? Then the tree moved, and she realized that the raccoon was standing on his back legs, and talking, and she hit the panic button.

“Greg! I quit!” she announced as she turned and headed for the back of the building. “You don’t pay me enough to deal with this shit!”

“An empty field?” Gamora seethed, as only she could. “Quill, you idiot.”

“Hey, last time I was here, it was empty!” Peter eyed the humans who were edging away from them.

“And you thought nothin’ ever happened in the time you’re gone?” Rocket snorted, fondling the unholstered rifle at his side.

“Perhaps we should find somewhere else to be, until you know whom to give the Tesseract to,” Drax murmured, watching a male human in a blue uniform touch his sidearm. “Or would that be something in authority?”

“That’s just a cop,” Peter muttered, just before he heard an approaching roaring noise. The source was five small flying objects, heading for them.

“What is that?” Gamora hissed, looking at the white contrails.

Peter searched his memory and came up blank. “I have no idea.”

Gamora’s eyes fluttered shut as if she were praying. “I am going to die-”

“Surrounded by idiots, yes, we know.” Peter hastily shut his face shield. Has Earth really changed that much?

An armored suit dropped to the ground, followed quickly by four others. Weapons bristled from their shoulder and forearms. They were painted a dark blue with white lettering. Peter may have been gone a long time, but even he could figure out that their paint schemes and designations marked them as police suits. “Oh fuck!” he whispered, eyeing them wearily. “It’s Robocop.”

“What?” Gamora hissed but she was interrupted.

“State your planet of origin,” the middle suit demanded.

“Uh . . .” Peter gestured around the group. “Which one of us?”

“I am Groot,” Groot chimed in.

“And that’s all he’s going to say,” the sole human Guardian said.

“Let’s start over. You, guy doing all the babbling.” The middle officer shifted slightly, pointing his fist with its attached gun at Peter. “What is your planet of origin?”

“Earth.” Peter spread his arms wide at their scoffs of disbelief. “Come on, does this fine specimen look alien?”

“You have shown up in the company of aliens and a female Hulk.” The officer’s emotions were masked by the speakers, but Peter didn’t hear any mockery.

“A female what?” Gamora growled and Peter winced. She’d been borderline enraged before being called a hulk.

“C’mon guys, she’s not that big,” he whispered quickly. “No need to bring out the schoolyard names.”

“Does this look like a schoolyard to you?” The head officer lifted his other hand, gesturing to the four Iron Suit-clad officers behind him. They lifted their arms as well, and the Guardians suddenly found themselves at the business end of all five weaponized suits. “Human or not, you are obviously in the presence of alien life forms. State your intentions!”

“I’ll show ‘em intentions, if they wanna see ‘em so bad--” Rocket chimed in as he started to pull his firearm from the holster.

Sensing that this was about to go very poorly, Peter jumped between the genetically-modified raccoon and the metal-covered cops, throwing up his arms to show that he wasn’t arming himself or trying to be aggressive. “Wait, wait - hold it! Everybody just calm down.”

He held his breath for a moment, but neither Rocket nor the cops made any move to start shooting. Then again, no one lowered their weapons either. “Okay,” he continued, turning slowly towards the officer in charge. “For real. My name is Peter Quill, and I swear to you I am from Earth. In fact, I’m from here. I mean, I think I am. If we’re in Missouri. Are we in Missouri?”

Robo-Cop made an assenting noise, but otherwise remained quiet. He appeared to be waiting for Peter to continue and so he did, blurting out his explanation smoothly but swiftly. “You’re obviously right, though. These guys - totally not humans. Except maybe him,” he joked, jerking a thumb at Drax. “I’m not entirely sure what he is.”

“I am the Destroyer, and the husband of Hovat, and the father of Kamaria.” Drax’s self-identity was very simple, and Peter rolled his eyes.

“Let me do the talking, okay?” he hissed sharply.

“Yes, because that always works out so well,” Gamora sighed. “People of Earth, we mean no harm. We’re here looking for aid.”

“And since when have aliens done anything to aid us?” the head officer replied. Though the speakers still masked any emotion in the cop’s voice, the statement was obviously meant to be either sarcastic or resentful.

Behind the head officer, one of the other four spoke up briefly. “Actually, sir, I always thought that Thor was there to help defend Manhattan, and--”

“Shutup, Wills! Did I ask you?” the commanding officer replied, cutting him off. The second suit straightened up in the air, the rest of his comment lost.

“Umm, see, I’ve been gone a while,” Peter said quickly. “So, I don’t know what the aliens have done to us?”

“Plenty,” he replied sharply. “In fact, thanks to alien invasions and Tony Stark, the United States is under martial law, son. So the military should be here pretty soon, and then you’ll be their problem.”

“Capello?” One of the other cops broke formation, backing up a little bit. “Three figures incoming. I think we have a bit of a problem.”

“What? It’s probably just the military, sending in their suits ahead of the ground artillery.” The leader’s gaze drifted up to the three figures moving through the air towards them but after a moment he shifted, almost taking a step backwards in the air like his subordinate. “Oh, hell.”


	36. Awkward

A cacophony of guitars and drums filled the air suddenly, and the five Guardians felt the shift in the crowd of people still hovering nearby, watching the show. A few of them cheered, but a number jeered as well.

“Is that supposed to be _music_?” Peter felt like crying as he realized that yes, someone thought that jangle of sound was supposed to be a song.

Capello cursed softly. “Willis, Jackson - cover the aliens! Allen and Mack, focus on the Avengers. Remember, only Stark and Thompson have warrants, but the others are wanted for questioning. We just have to hold off long enough for the troops to get here.”

The other officers didn’t have an opportunity to voice any objections, because at that point Thor landed with an earth-trembling thud. Iron Man and Emma pulled up right behind him, each one hovering over one of his shoulders. Tony spoke first, the superior technology in his own suit allowing for a much more diverse range of vocal inflection. He started with casual camaraderie. “Thanks for the help, guys. Your service is invaluable, as always, but we’ve got it from here.”

“Tony Stark and Emma Thompson, you are under arrest.” Capello had balls, Tony had to give him that. Despite facing Iron Man, Thor, and a woman who could manipulate metal - _Emma really needs her own awesome superhero name_ \- he tried to do his duty.

“Officer, I appreciate your position.” Tony jerked a thumb at the quinjet hovering behind them. It had turned and lowered its ramp, and Natasha and Captain America were there, along with another woman. They didn’t know who Verun was, but they didn’t need to. The woman wore her alienness like a badge and there was no doubt she could kick several kinds of ass. “You’re significantly out-classed, both by us and the aliens.”

“Holy shit,” Peter breathed softly, his eyes on the weird futuristic airplane. “That’s _Captain America._ ”

“Is that someone important?” Gamora asked softly.

“Yeah, only the best superhero ever.” He straightened a little. “I had all his comics when I was a kid.”

“The picture book?” Gamora’s opinion of comics was low.

“It’s not a picture book!” Peter glared at her, his voice full of wounded pride. “It’s a _graphic novel_.”

“We have a duty, Mr. Stark.” Capello rose a little higher into the air. “We are bringing you in.”

“Emma.” Tony paused and everyone tensed. “Get ‘em.”

She glanced at him just long enough to arch a brow. The two cops Capello had assigned to the Avengers, Allen and Mack, began to move forward through the air towards them, their hand-mounted jets firing into gear. Emma turned her head at the sound, or rather at the flash of red in the corner of her vision. She lifted a hand sharply, fingers spread wide in a halting gesture. Suddenly the two that had started moving stopped suddenly, their jets still firing uselessly against the power of her metal-manipulation abilities. The others tried to turn towards them, but they too found themselves unable to budge.

“Sorry boys, I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Emma quipped, even as she shot them a sympathetic smile. The jeering in the crowd had gotten a bit louder, and suddenly two men stepped forward, both of them pulling out handguns and aiming them in the general direction of the Avengers. Emma saw the movement out of the corner of her eye, and swept her other hand through the air briskly. The guns flew out of their owners’ hands and went flying through the air, landing safely on the grass a fair distance away from the crowd.

“Anyone else?” she asked glibly, glancing briefly around at the crowd. To everyone else there her actions appeared effortless, but her fellow Avengers knew that keeping five men wearing Iron Suits in check would wear on her sooner rather than later.

“Whoa,” Peter replied, his eyes wide as he watched the blue-clad woman. “This place has _really_ changed.”

Behind all of this, Verun nudged Bucky gently. He glanced back at her and she met his gaze intently. Her eyes flicked towards Quill, and then back to Bucky. “I know,” he said softly. “I saw.”

Gathering himself, he dropped off the edge of the ramp and walked over to them. Behind him, the quinjet started to lower. “If you five will come with me, please,” he said, doing his best to talk like Steve. Firm. Confident. Caring.

“Hells yes!” Peter stepped forward and tapped on the shield. “Oh, holy shit! This is too cool.”

“Don’t touch the shield.” Bucky wanted to take back the words, but they had just flown out of his mouth. _Steve wouldn’t have said that._ Of course, he’d never seen anyone do that before.

“No problem, I just had to, I couldn’t resist myself,” the human Guardian chirped.

“Just like when you masturbate in the shower,” Gamora growled softly.

Bucky’s face burned with shock and embarrassment, but Quill was brighter still. “Not cool!” he snarled at her.

“Just get going, both of you! You can have angry sex later.” Rocket shoved past all of them, his patience gone. “We got a ride now!”

“I am Groot.”

“I am Captain America,” Bucky said, glad now that he’d practiced saying it. He still almost choked on the words.

Peter almost squealed aloud. “This is so cool!” He started forward, far too excited.

Gamora sighed and summoned a smile for the uniformed human. “Yes, he’s always like this. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, ma’am. This way please.” The new Captain took a deep breath, and followed them into the airship.

The plane took off slowly with everyone on board except for Emma and Tony, who had stayed for a few seconds longer in order to provide cover. They landed, moments later, on the ramp that had remained open. Emma slammed the button that would close the it behind them, and Tony dropped down into the pilot’s seat.

“JARVIS, let’s beat it,” Tony snapped abruptly, even as he began to fiddle with the controls himself. “The troops can’t be far behind.”

Emma slumped down in a seat, looking a bit exhausted. There was a moment or two of tense quiet as Tony focused on putting some distance between them and Kansas City. But after a couple minutes, Peter broke the silence.

“Man, what the hell happened to my planet?” He slumped down into a seat next to Emma, looking a little dazed. “I know it’s been awhile, but _damn_.”

“You hail from Midgard, traveler?” Thor stepped forward, and for the first time Peter and the other Guardians turned their focus to the Asgardian warrior. Rocket looked up at the muscle-bound Avenger and then rolled his eyes.

“Oh, brother. Another one. Hey Drax, looks like we found your long-lost twin over here,” the raccoon commented, tucking his weapon back into it’s holster now that it didn’t appear he would need it.

“I have no brother,” Drax replied, completely straight-laced. “Besides, other than being of muscular stature, this man and I do not resemble one another in any way.”

"Not Midgard. Never heard of it," Star Lord replied, ignoring the exchange between Drax and Rocket, and reaching up to press the button on his helmet again. It dissolved away this time, exposing his face. "I'm from here, from Earth. I grew up near here, in St. Joseph, Missouri. I've been gone a long time, though. My name is Peter Quill."

"JARVIS?" Tony might have been flying the jet, but he was still listening to the conversation. "Can you confirm any of this for us?"

"Yes, Sir," the A.I. responded over the jet's com system. "Records indicate that a Peter Jason Quill did reside in St. Joseph, Missouri. He was born February the fourth, nineteen-eighty. A missing person's report was filed on August the first, nineteen-eighty-eight by his maternal grandfather, Joseph Peter Quill. According to the report, he was last seen in the hallway of the intensive care unit of St. Luke's Medical Hospital in Kansas City, Missouri, visiting his mother. He was carried into the hallway by his grandfather in the moments immediately following his mother's death, and never seen again. It may be relevant to note that the hospital is located directly across the street from the location you just departed from."

Several of the Avengers gave Peter sympathetic looks during the review of the police report, and even his companions looked a bit startled, as if they had never heard any of those particular details before. Only the green-skinned alien woman with him regarded him without surprise, her expression composed but not without compassion.

Peter clenched his jaw tightly during the summary and remained quiet. It was Natasha who finally broke the silence, her voice brisk and professional even if her expression and body language were a bit stiff. "If you're really this Peter Quill, prove it. What were you wearing on the day of your disappearance?"

"Jeans, a t-shirt, and a red and black checkered flannel shirt over it," he responded, equally business-like. "And I was carrying a black backpack."

"That information also matches the report, Sir." JARVIS replied.

“Great, so he has access to the report.” Natasha crossed her arms, her paranoia fueling her unease. “Doesn’t necessarily confirm it.”

“Hey, touch this screen,” Tony said, holding out a tablet.

Peter stared at the device, pretty sure he knew where this was going. “Fine but if you offer me candy next, I’m outta here.” He firmly pressed his fingertips against the screen.

“No, I have better than candy.” The billionaire peered at the screen. “Booze.” Peter perked up considerably. The small computer beeped and Tony grinned as he spun it to show the matching fingerprints from the Center for Missing Children’s database. “Congratulations. You’re Peter Quill.”

“Told you.” Quill said this mostly to Natasha, wincing when Gamora elbowed him sharply. “I did tell her!” he protested.

"JARVIS, take the wheel and put us in a cruising pattern, would you?" Tony fixed his gaze on the half-human Guardian. "Great. You're from Earth, welcome home. What I want I know is what you're doing with the Tesseract."

“Playing keep-away with a psychotic hottie who’s trying to complete her Infinity Stone collection,” Peter said.

“How about breaking that down into Earthese for us non-abducted kids,” Iron Man interjected.

“And English for those of us born in 1917.” Bucky added.

“I thought you were born in 1918.” Quill looked confused.

“It’s your turn to do storytime, Close Encounters,” Tony said quickly.

“Alright, fine.” Peter drew a deep breath. “It all started when we got a distress call from our buddy, the Collector.”

“‘Buddy’?” Rocket grunted. “Try freak and creepy loser.”

“I am Groot.”

The raccoon whirled to glare at his wooden buddy. “Nuh-uh, you don’t get to throw stones. You sold him your body to make into a chair!”

“Will you guys shut the fuck up?” Quill threw up in hands in affront. “I’m telling this! It all started when the Collector said some Asgardian chick was tearing up his place. He said her name was Sip.”

“ _Sif_ ,” Gamora groaned, as Thor asked, “Sif?”

“You know her?” Peter asked.

Thor’s brows lowered. “Yes, she is one of my boon companions.”

Peter frowned. “Oh.” The Guardians exchanged a glance before the half-human said, “Then this is gonna be _really_ awkward.”


	37. Storytime

_Cherry Bomb_ blared out of the speakers, somehow not overriding the Collector’s voice. “Whoa, slow down. What happened?” Peter asked.

Taneleer was not a man who was used to being dispassionate, and at that point, his emotions had been riding high. “I was _robbed_ ,” he growled, his voice a low grumble of sound.

“By an Asgardian, you said?” Gamora asked, leaning over Peter’s shoulder. Her breasts were brushing his back, and the half-human reminded himself that baseball was a thing - a real boring thing.

“Yes, a servant of the All-Father. She had been here before, and she took what was left with me.” The white-haired alien leaned close to the screen. “She serves him no longer.”

“Okay, so who’s her boss now?” Rocket asked, tilting his head.

“And what did she take?” Gamora added.

Taneleer’s jaw had tightened fractionally and Peter realized that it was really bad. “She serves Thanos’s Scepter, and she took the Aether from me.”

( _“Sif is loyal!” Thor shouted, breaking the narrative. “She has long been my boon companion!”_

 _“We’ll figure it out, Point Break. Let him tell the story.”_ )

Gamora had paled, and Peter had thought that was bad enough. He didn’t know how much worse it would get though. “Is that bad?” he asked her.

“It’s how Thanos controls those he enslaves.” Gamora hadn’t said it, but Peter knew she meant, _instead of breaking them._ She would know, as one of the broken.

“What’s the Aether?” Rocket asked. “Is it a weapon? I’d like it to be a weapon.”

“It is a powerful weapon, pet,” Taneleer growled, ignoring the raccoon’s return snarl. “A most powerful weapon. One of the six Infinity Stones.”

“That again,” Peter sighed wearily. He couldn’t help but remember the last one had almost gotten them killed. He resisted the urge to look at Groot.

“It gets worse.” The Collector looked grim. “Sif had the Tesseract with her.”

Gamora inhaled sharply. “What?” Peter asked. “What’s that mean?”

“Just assume from this point on that we don’t know what you guys are talking about and just tell us,” Rocket added grumpily.

“The Tesseract houses the Space gem.” Taneleer stated.

Gamora’s voice had hardened into her ‘moral badass’ tone that Peter dreaded. “And the Mind gem is housed in Thanos’ Sceptre.”

“This woman possesses three of the Infinity gems?” Drax asked, his brow furrowing.

“Yes, and I’m sure she’s headed for Xandar, to take the stone you left there.” Taneleer told them gravely.

“Shit.” Peter turned and headed for the cockpit. “Thanks for the warning! Let’s go guys.”

Gamora had closed the connection, even as the Collector started to say something else. If only they’d stopped to heed the powerful being’s coming warning.

~* ~ * ~

The general distress signal hit them as soon as they entered Xandarian airspace. Within moments, the communications screen flickered to life and a frazzled-looking Rhomann Dey appeared. “Quill? Guardians? Thank the stars, we’re under attack.”

“We heard you might be,” Gamora replied as Quill directed the ship towards the Nova Capital. “She’s here for the power stone, Dey! She’s in possession of three other stones already.”

His face paled slightly, and he drew in a deep breath. “I need to inform Nova Prime. We could really use some help down here in the meantime.”

“On our way, sir.” Star-Lord directed the ship down and into the atmosphere, sweeping across the cityscape. It didn’t take long to find her, Quill just followed the lead of the Nova Corp’s single-passenger Star Blasters that were converging in a single location near the city’s core.

The communications screen activated again and this time Irani Rael herself appeared. “Guardians, we’re glad you’ve come. We’ve been holding her off but we’ve sacrificed a lot of men doing it. Denarian Dey informs me that she seeks the Power Stone. You’re sure about this?”

“So we’ve been told,” Quill replied sharply, dodging his way around a formation of the small ships.

“Then you have to come get it.” She turned her attention away from them for a moment, speaking to someone off-screen. “Dey, I need you to go to the vault. Retrieve the stone and bring it back here immediately.”

“Whaddya want us to do with it?” Rocket chimed in, looking agitated. “We left it here ‘cause _this_ was the safest place!”

The stern-faced leader of Nova Corp turned back towards the screen, her expression grim. “I’m afraid I don’t know, Rocket Raccoon. You’ll have to figure out something, though, for it’s no longer safe here.”

Peter grimaced, and nodded. “Yeah. Sounds like you could use some help on the ground, too. Gamora, I’m gonna drop you and Groot off near the fighting. Drax, go with them. Maybe the three of you can show this chick what happens to Astorians who start busting things up in our neck of the galaxy.

“I am GROOT,” the large tree-shaped alien stated fiercely, as Gamora nodded and Drax unsheathed his deadly twin blades.

_(“It’s ‘Asgardians’, you idiot,” Gamora interrupted. “You should try to remember, since you’re speaking to one.”_

_“Isn’t that what I said?” Peter replied, looking confused._

_“It is not,” Thor replied stiffly, arms still crossed over his chest. “Please, continue your description of your blood-thirsty battle preparations.”_

_Natasha let out an amused noise. “This from the man who pulls his weapons and bellows ‘Open wide the gates of Hel!” before battle?”)_

“Good.” They could see the battle now, flashes of blue mixed in with bursts of energy from Nova Corp weaponry. “Rocket and I will grab the power stone. Be ready to go when we are, the best thing we can do to help Xandar is to let her know we’ve got it and then get the hell outta here. Hopefully she’ll chase the stone and leave the planet behind.”

“And after that?” Drax questioned. “The Asgardians are mighty warriors, and this one is in possession of three Infinity Stones. It seems very likely that she will catch us and kill us with little difficulty.”

Peter scowled, and swung the ship down towards the fighting. “I’ve only come up with one part of the plan so far, okay? We’ll just have to wing the rest of it. Now go!”

~* ~ * ~

Peter relinquished center stage so that Gamora could tell them what happened while he was retrieving the Orb. Jumping out of _Milano’s_ hold, Gamora rolled forward, then sprang smoothly to her feet. She dashed forward, noting the bodies at their feet. Blasts of blue energy streaked through the air, barely missing the fast-moving assassin. She ran straight for the tall black-haired woman, drawing her sword as the other one raised her staff.

Their weapons connected and for a moment the two female fighters remained locked together, brute Asgardian strength warring against cybernetic modification. Her opponent grinned suddenly. “A woman warrior worthy of my prowess!”

“I’m a _warrior_ worthy of your prowess, you sexist bitch,” the green skinned woman growled. Her added fury didn’t help her against the magically-fortified Aesir; Gamora buckled, dropping down to a knee. Sif started to speak but Gamora saw Groot closing and couldn’t stop her reaction to her ally’s intervention. Sif began to twist around but was struck mid-twist with the whip of a thick but flexible tree branch that sent her tumbling backwards onto the smooth streets of Xandar.

Scowling, the Asgardian rose to her feet and turned her attention to the tall intruder. She leveled the staff at Groot and a blast of blue light shot from the end and slammed into the tree-alien, throwing off chips of bark and wood. The blast was cut short when Drax slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. For a second, he pinned her, only to have the woman throw him off of her with ease.

“Groot, Drax, flank her!” Gamora shouted, scrambling to her feet.

“Three on one hardly seems fair,” Sif remarked idly, leveling the staff at Gamora and blowing her back several dozen feet. “Two on one feels better, no?”

 _She sounds like Thanos,_ Gamora thought as she climbed back to her feet, rushing to close again. _Her voice, her inflections!_ While she charged in, Drax and Groot had done as ordered, attacking the Asgardian from opposite sides. Groot struck at her, only to have her bend away from his tendrils even as she blocked Drax’s knife on the other. For a second, the three of them danced and twisted in perfect harmony, the woman at the center easily evading them. The dance ended when she slammed the butt of the spear against the ground. A wave of blue energy lashed out from her feet, throwing the two men off of her.

“I’d rather fight you, Gamora.” Sif grinned like Thanos, too.

 _She’s not a daughter of his,_ Gamora thought as she raised her sword to catch the descending staff. It screeched down her blade to the hilt, and she twisted toward her opponent. Her elbow failed to catch the other woman’s face, and she didn’t see the punch that Sif leveled at her until it smashed her to the ground. The woman’s boot pinned her to the ground and Gamora resisted the urge to push her off.

 _She must have been a secret daughter, a spy._ “Who are you?” Gamora asked, wondering if this surprise daughter liked to talk as much as Thanos.

“I am Sif, Asgardian warrior bound on a mission for my Master.” The Asgardian grinned at her.

“Thanos, your master is Thanos.” Gamora didn’t get up and she didn’t look at Drax or Groot. She could see them moving toward her, and she had to distract this woman. “Are you one of his daughters?”

“Oh, if only I were. You were lucky, to serve such a father as him!” Sif’s expression went distant and dreamy for a moment. Gamora’s eyes widened; she’d seen that look before - on an Asgardian prince’s face before Thanos sent him off on an invasion.

 _The sceptre!_ Before Gamora could process more than that, Groot wrapped the other woman up, lifting her off the assassin. She scrambled up as Sif twisted and aimed the sceptre at the tree-alien. Drax was there instantly, his big hands grabbing the weapon and turning it away from his fellow Guardian.

_(“An Asgardian prince? You speak of my brother, Loki!” Thor interjected, his eyes widening in surprise._

_Gamora glanced at the muscled warrior, her own expression equally startled. “You’re related to Loki? You don’t look anything alike.”_

_“He is my adopted brother,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Please continue, I would know Sif’s fate.”)_

_C’mon, Peter, hurry up!_ Gamora rushed forward, intending to hit the woman in the back of the head. Instead, Sif lifted her weapon, using enough brute strength to lift Drax off the ground. Gamora caught a split-second vision of his comically startled expression before the staff’s butt snapped back and hit her in the chest. Gamora went down, her lungs and heart and ribs burning from the impact; she was vaguely aware of Sif head-butting Drax with a stomach-turning crunch.

Groot was on his own for a second and it was a second too long. Gamora could only watch as Sif leveled the blast at him again and this time, the blue beam took a chunk out of his side. He went to one knee, releasing the black-haired woman and pressing his hands to his side.

“No!” the female Guardian screamed, surging to her feet, throwing herself at Sif. She needed to save her companion, her family, and that fear and fury turned her into a cyclone of relentless attacks. For the first time, Sif was driven back by one of the Guardians, her pale face shocked at this turn of events.

It wouldn’t last; it couldn’t, not against this warrior. Her raven hair snapping violently, Sif caught and claimed the momentum of the fight, forcing Gamora to lose her offensive drive, and parry or die. Drax rose, blood streaming down his face, shaking his head. Sif took three quick steps to his side and kicked him in the skull. The big alien dropped to hands and knees, hand to his cranium.

Gamora staggered to a stop, her chest burning as she struggled to breathe. The Asgardian turned to her but wooden tendrils pierced Sif back to front, and the woman staggered for a second. His gentle face twisted into a terrible grimace, the tree-alien tried to lift her. Sif grinned maliciously as her boots failed to leave the ground. Reaching down, she grabbed the wooden tentacles with one hand and slowly drew them out of her.


	38. Homeward Bound

_We are so screwed,_ Gamora thought, unable to come up with a word that fit better than Peter’s slang. “Do you see the others yet?” she called out to Drax as she ran back towards the Asgardian warrior.

“Whomever you are seeking, they will arrive too late,” Sif interjected, swinging the staff towards Gamora.

“You say that, and yet you don’t know Peter’s timing,” Gamora replied as she caught the staff and parried it, feeling the effort down to her bones.

“Oh, sure, _Peter’s_ timing,” Rocket’s surly voice snarled behind her. “What about me?”

Gamora glanced to see them both there, though they were hanging back and leveling their weapons at Sif. Their opponent eyed the newcomers arrogantly, her staff tight in her hands. “You are weaker than they!”

“Lady, where I come from, it’s not nice to point out a man’s deficiencies,” Peter informed her just before opening fire. Sif blocked the blasts from his guns with the staff, each connecting bolt dissipating in a sizzle of azure fire.

“You fools will not keep me from my prize!” Sif snarled, returning fire at the half-human.

“What, this?” Peter asked, holding up the Orb.

_(“You brought it into battle?” Tony asked, his voice full of scorn. “Rookie.”_

_“I’m not a rookie, or an idiot,” Peter told him, narrowing his eyes at him._

_“Just tell the story,” Bucky said, still clad in Captain America’s suit.)_

Peter and Rocket had flown right to Nova Corps HQ, meeting Nova Prime and a contingent of guards outside. “Here, take this far away from her.” The head of the Nova Corps looked tired. “This is the second time you’ve come to save us, Peter Quill.”

“It’s my pleasure, ma’am.” He took the silver sphere. “We’ll get her to leave you alone.”

“Thank you. Now I have to go contact King Odin and see if this is an isolated incident or a prelude to war,” she informed him gravely.

“Good luck,” he said and hurried back aboard the ship. “Let’s get the others and get out of here.”

“So I’ve been doing scans while you were flirting with Nova Prime-” Rocket said casually.

“I was _not_ flirting, she’s old enough to be my mom,” Peter interrupted quickly.

“And that Tesseract that she has, from what the Nova Prime records say, it’ll let her teleport herself pretty much anywhere.” Rocket looked unusually grave as he said, “So long as she has that, I don’t think we can get far enough away from her.”

“Then we have to steal that, too.” Peter clenched his jaw tightly, taking a firmer grip on the yoke.

“Oh yeah, just take that too,” Rocket growled, waving his paws about in irritation. “You got a plan that doesn’t involve our bloody deaths?”

“I’m working on that!” Peter wasn’t given much time. It only took a moment to fly back to where they’d left their companions. “Here’s what we’ll do.”

He laid out the plan and Rocket stared at him. “You better hope she can’t sense those things.”

“I know.” Peter shrugged as the M-ship landed on the surface, hidden behind a building. “It’s all I got.”

The small Guardian sighed. “ _Fine_. I guess I can sacrifice my few remaining years to this plan.”

“You have got to shut up about that,” Peter snapped as they exited and crept forward. The raccoon growled when he saw Groot kneeling, holding his side. Peter had let Rocket get in the first word but he’d quickly drawn her attention to him. His plan depended on his ability to be a smart ass and hold her notice.

When he held up the silver orb, he had no doubt he had succeeded. “You fool, you’ve brought it right to me.” Grinning, she started to advance on him.

Behind her, Rocket snuck forward on all fours, his paws whisper-silent on the broken battleground. She came at Peter, while he backpedaled, trying to get her as far away from the others. She came at him in a final rush and grabbed his wrist in a bruising grip.

For a moment, they paused, locked in combat. “For a mortal, you are pleasing to the eye-”

_(“Oh, my god,” Gamora interrupted. “She did not!”_

_“Yes, she did!” Peter protested. “If you’re jealous, you know what to do about it.”_

_“Can we **please** have the rest of the story?” Captain America asked through clenched teeth.)_

Sif grabbed the orb from him, releasing Peter. At same moment, Rocket jumped up onto her hip, his claws finding handholds in her armor. With his quick little paws, he reached into the pouch at her waist and snatched at the squarest thing he could feel.

Sif spun and tried to punch him but he didn’t have the Tesseract; it was some red and gold and black lantern-thing. He flung it away and the Asgardian aborted her swing on him to try to catch it. It bounced off her fingertips and to the ground.

It shattered as Rocket made attempt number two to pick her pocket. He saw he had the blue glowing square, just as pictured from his research. He jumped off her leg and landed on three paws, the Tesseract cradled in one arm. Sif wasn’t coming after him. Instead, she stood with her arms spread before a rising red mist.

“Run!” Peter said, then contradicted himself by scooping Rocket up and dashing toward the others. He stopped at Gamora’s side, looking over her with worry and ignoring the pissy look she gave him for being concerned about her well-being.

_(Gamora glared pointedly but didn’t interrupt this time.)_

“C’mon,” Peter said, waving them closer, “we have to go.”

“She has the Orb!” Gamora gasped.

“Really?” Peter asked, whipping out the real Orb and holding it under her nose. “After all this time, you really thought I’d not use my favorite trick?”

“She is between us and the ship,” Drax pointed out, his blood running down his ritual scars. The red mist had lifted Sif up, holding her in the air even as it began to pour itself down her throat.

“Yeah,” Peter said softly, feeling regret well up in him. “I know. Rocket, hand me the Tesseract.”

“What are you doing?” Drax was upright and looking better by the second.

He had been right; when the raccoon placed it in his hand, he could feel the power, just like with the Orb. This time, it didn’t try to test him or overwhelm him. It was just patiently waiting to be used. “I’m getting us out of here. Sorry, _Milano._ ” With a grimace, he activated the Tesseract, heading toward the one place he didn’t think Sif would think to look: Home.

~* ~ * ~

“This sceptre is controlled Sif, much as it controlled my brother.” Thor’s expression was thunderous. “Verun, can she be healed, as Loki was?”

“Allegedly,” Tony muttered under his breath.

“That horse is dead and cremated, Tony. We’re not sending it to Tahiti,” Emma murmured back with a stern warning glare.

Verun frowned. “Loki has a strong mind. I am not saying that Lady Sif does not, but her training and power is in her body, not her mind. Loki is a magician before he’s a warrior. I have no doubt that he retained more of himself than she has.”

“Is she-” His voice almost cracked and the prince took a moment to compose himself. He couldn’t imagine a life without one of his staunchest companions. “Is she lost forever?”

“No!” The Vanir’s composure evaporated into concern and she leaned over to put a hand on his armored shoulder. “I did not mean to imply that. I only mean that I believe her recovery will be harder. Longer. You know, of course, that I will help.”

“Thank you, sister.” Thor closed his hand over hers and Verun drew back after a short moment, eager to cut the connection trying to form between their minds. Thor was entitled to the privacy of his thoughts, particularly at this time.

“Back to the more pressing issue. We need a major d/l of intell.” Tony leaned forward. “Some of you are clearly familiar with Thanos, but I’m not. I’m pretty sure most of us aren’t. I’m also not familiar with Sif.”

“We need to know who these players are,” Natasha said calmly, ignoring the smile Star-Lord shot at her.

“Do you have a few hours?” Peter asked the hold in general, his eyes locked on the gorgeous redhead.

“Well, we don’t have _that_ much fuel.” Tony’s lips twitched in thought. “Vote time. Do we take them there, team? Lift your hands for yes.”

“What is a vote?” Verun asked quizzically.

“Don’t worry, you’re not on the team and don’t get one,” Tony replied glibly.

“Tony, wait.” Emma had been quiet throughout the story as her gaze focused on the text scrolling steadily across her glasses. Now she turned her attention briefly to the small group of new aliens for a moment, scrutinizing them objectively. “As important as it is to exercise caution right now, where are you planning on taking them otherwise? We can’t take them to Stark Tower, and if Hammer located the Utah facility it’s a sure bet that he’s located your other secure facilities.”

Tony scowled, realizing he didn’t have a good answer for that. Seeing his hesitation, Emma continued. “They have two Infinity Stones in their possession. Keeping them secure seems as important as keeping them secret. The safest place for them on this planet is Sanctuary.”

“No, it’s too dangerous to the families we have there,” Natasha interjected immediately. “We don’t know enough about you guys, no offense.”

“Some taken,” Peter said with a little smile. “I like to think I’m a lovable Han Solo-type scoundrel.”

“You, sir, are no scruffy nerfherder,” Tony quipped.

“You’re just jealous because you have a competitor for the title,” Emma replied, her lips twitching in amusement.

“I am not scruffy,” Tony protested. “Do you know how much I pay for a haircut?”

“Don’t remind me, I remember the one time I went there. After I paid the bill I went and made a matching donation, just to alleviate my conscience.” She turned back to Peter, her expression becoming serious. “There’s a lot I’m sure you need to get caught up on as well, but I’m going to sum it up briefly for you so you understand our hesitation.”

Peter nodded, his expression a bit grim. Things had obviously changed on his home planet, and not just the latest music and fashion trends. Emma spent a few minutes very briefly explaining the events of the last few years - mostly the creation and eventual theft of the Iron Man designs, Loki’s attack on Manhattan and the increasing number of various other alien intrusions, and the intermingled rise and fall of both the S.H.I.E.L.D. and H.Y.D.R.A. organizations.

“I know a lot of that will take some more explaining,” she finished apologetically, knowing that he had about a billion unanswered questions. “But the end result is that our secure location _needs_ to remain secure.”

“I am Groot,” the living plant creature proclaimed quietly.

Rocket nodded, a bit subdued for once. “Nah, can’t say I blame them either, buddy. Sounds like a helluva mess.”

“Guys, I can go anywhere.” Peter held up the Tesseract. “You don’t want me in your hideout? Fine, let’s go somewhere else and talk.”

“Where would be safe?” Gamora asked.

“Vanaheim,” Verun said. “Sif doesn’t know that I’ve allied myself with you. The only condition I ask is that we retrieve Loki first.”

“What? Reindeer Games? What the fuck for?” Tony asked sharply. “We were having a nice party without him.”

“Because it is part of his culture, one too long denied to him.” The Vanir met Tony’s intense gaze without flinching. “He should be allowed to be there, and to hear of what was done to Sif. What has been done to her was also done to him.”

“She’s got a point,” Emma commented, her focus on Tony. “This is starting to look connected somehow, and we need to put all our collective information together to try and figure out exactly what’s going on, and what to do about it. We’re not comfortable taking them back to Sanctuary yet, but we need everyone together in one place. Sif is from Asgard, and Odin would probably try to force them to hand over both Infinity Stones. No offense, Thor, but my faith in your people’s ability to secure them is basically shot at this point.”

Thor scowled but didn’t protest. “It does seem to be the fairest solution. I am in agreement.”

“Fine with me,” Natasha confirmed simply. It kept these strangers away until they knew them better, and had the added bonus of getting Loki out of Sanctuary as well.

“I’ve always wanted to go off-planet,” Tony said, “though I was hoping to do it in a space ship. But no, fine, we can use _magic_.”

“Problem. I’ve never been to Vanaheim.” Peter shrugged slightly.

“I have.” Thor extended his hand. For a moment, the Guardians tensed; when Peter looked at Captain America, he nodded to himself and put the blue cube in the godling’s hand. Thor concentrated, and in a flash of light, the people and the quinjet disappeared from Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments!


	39. Edges

With the departure of the Avengers, Loki was given an unexpected reprieve. With their presence, he’d constantly been subjected to their scrutiny. Now, he was able to breathe and relax a little, safe from their intrusion.

He’d found what passed for a library here. The books were all static, their words and pictures stationary instead of mobile. It was the primitive ink and paper construction that caused this, Loki noted with disgust. Still, reading was a luxury long denied to him and he selected a book mostly at random: _Homer’s The Odyssey_.

He didn’t want to go back to his room, so he found a comfortable chair on a balcony and settled in to read. The book was oddly structured, written in two languages set side by side for comparison. He could read both, of course, and he was just judging the quality of the translation when approaching footsteps interrupted him.

Heaving a sigh of annoyance, Loki slipped the book under his back and was staring out into the bustling heart of Sanctuary when the dead man arrived. “Ah, Son of Coul. Come to gloat over the vanquished enemy?”

“Playing the martyr won’t work, Loki. I know your story.” The infuriating human took the other chair, giving him a grim smile.

“Then what are you doing here?” the jotun asked icily.

“You’re supposed to be monitored twenty-four-seven and that’s my job when everyone else is gone.” He pulled out one of the tiny mobile computers humans liked to use as communicators and started to utilize programs on it.

Loki turned his head and stared into the cavern, seething inside. The urge to lash out was strong and only the knowledge that it wouldn’t better his position kept him from acting on his desire.

 _‘Yeah, the whole ‘Big Brother’ routine is getting old, isn’t it?’_ Zoe’s voice was a whisper across his mind, tinged with amusement and a giddy sense of accomplishment. _‘Wanna play hookie?’_

The prince held himself still, even as his eyes roved over the area. He didn’t spot the white-haired human anywhere. _Of course I would,_ he thought, trusting that she could read minds as well as speak to them. Anything to tweak the noses of those who thought they could control him.

 _‘Okay, there’s an access point in the men’s restroom down the hall from the library on the left. Phil probably won’t want to watch you pee, but getting him off your back long enough to get into the vents is your problem.’_ He could feel the impish amusement coloring her thoughts as if she were standing in front of him with that mischievous grin that could match his own. _‘Once you’re in, I’ve got a secret base I worked out with JARVIS in the Avenger’s Place. He won’t snitch on us and you’re still technically chaperoned. I’ve even got snacks!’_

 _Excellent_. The jotun relished the chance to show the woman what he could do, especially since she’d seen him nigh-constantly humiliated and put down in the last several weeks. Her mischief allowed him to slip Coulson’s leash without getting into trouble. Oh, Thor would probably lecture him - his brother rarely passed up a chance to display his vaunted morality - but he could cling to the technicalities Zoe offered.

Drawing on his magics, he created the image of himself sitting quietly on the sofa. Then he rose, took his book, and walked calmly to the men’s room. From there, it was easy to climb into the metal tunnel. When he poked his head into the dark space she was waiting, her white hair catching the dim lighting, while her rainbow eyes gleamed with delight. “Easily done,” he told her casually.

“Follow me!” she said excitedly and scrambled back into the oversized air vents. She managed to move both quickly and mostly silently, a feat that was far more impressive after a few moments of Loki attempting to maneuver in the enclosed space. The route they took was long, winding, and involved climbing both up and down at several points.

Eventually she popped another grate open on the floor of a mostly empty room. There was a kitchen visible through a large open archway, and a hall leading off to one side. Piled in the center of the room were a dozen blankets, sheets, and oversized pillows. A few books were sitting in a small pile next to them, along with a large bottle of some sort of sparkling liquid and an empty plate. Zoe motioned in pride to the room as Loki pulled himself up from the floor. “Tada! Casa a la Satelle!”

“Your house is lacking,” Loki said, though his tone was more teasing than mean.

She pointed a finger at him in mock outrage, “ _You_ figure out how to drag a couch through air vents, and then you can critique the decor. And now, you get no cherry cordials. I was gonna share, but nope. None for you.”

“You will share,” he promised her, biting onto the offered challenge like a royal pit bull. He took a step closer, his green eyes glinting. “Willingly, even.”

“Make. Me.” She shot back, still grinning and crossing her arms in front of her chest. It was good to see Loki relax some and be playful; he was far too brittle around the others, but she could understand. Even if he deserved some of it, it had to suck being surrounded by people that hated and mistrusted you all the time. 

“All in the fullness of time.” He turned from her and studied their supplies. “Are we to flop on the mound like small children? Or did you have something more orderly in mind?”

She took a few steps around him and then let herself drop effortlessly onto the soft pile, arms splayed above her head. “It’s a pillow pile. _Of course_ you flop around like a little kid. That’s why they _exist!_ ”

“Is this some Midgardian custom I was unaware of?” he asked haughtily.

She sighed and stretched, motioning for the alien prince to join her. “It’s _fun_ and I never got to do it as a kid because all the hospital pillows and blankets sucked. C’mon, give it a try. It’ll earn you a cherry cordial point.” The last was said in a wheedling, playful tone, her grin still impish and challenging.

He sighed as if acquiescing to a cavity search, but he turned his back to the pile and obligingly fell backwards into the mass of textiles. The blankets poofed up around him and settled limply around him before he turned his head to look at her. “Is that the entirety of the game?”

“It’s not a game, it’s just fun!” Zoe rolled her eyes and grabbed one of the pillows, bapping him in head with the cotton-stuffed weapon. “Geez, lighten up some. We’re _misbehaving_ , remember?”

Loki grunted at the impact. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?” he retorted, grabbing his own pillow and returning fire - with more force and malice than Zoe had applied.

“Well,” Zoe said between trading padded blows, “if everyone’s gonna treat us like teenagers, then we might as well have some fun acting like ones. Y’know, sneaking off, drinking beer, except beer is gross so I brought some hard cider instead, eating junk food, gossiping, getting into places we’re not allowed. Giving them all heart attacks when they realize they have no idea where we are or what we’re up to.” She grinned, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes the way it had before. “I figure after the last couple of years, I’m due.”

Loki understood, in a way. His imprisonment had been brief, and perhaps earned - not that he’d admit that to her or anyone. “I suppose I should be grateful that you are allowing me to cause my own share of coronary agitation. Thank you.” He paused and lust filled his eyes. It wasn’t a lust for sex, but for her power. “You do realize that you can sow chaos in their hearts directly. If you so wish.”

She blinked at him and smartly said, “Huh?” Then she shook her head. “You mean like mess with their minds? Nah, I can barely do the whole telepath thing right now. Verun says I’m making really good progress, but I still have to be able to see someone to send to them and you’re the only other person I’ve even tried to do that with.”

“I’m flattered,” he said drily.

“You should be,” she replied mostly straight-faced, then propped herself up on one arm to look at him. She licked her lips nervously, then admitted, “I did have a bit of an ulterior motive for inviting you here.” She took a breath, but rushed on before he could do much more than glower at her. “See, when I was like twelve I ended up with a roommate in the hospital for a couple of weeks. They were out of room or something, and anyways, this girl, she was kinda nerdy. A dork, y’know? So we got along pretty well. Her parents brought her a laptop and her favorite shows to watch while she was recovering and so we ended up binging on sci-fi shows. One of them, about this space station, had a line in it that always stuck with me. ‘The truth is a three edged sword: your side, their side, and the truth.’”

She rolled back onto her back, her hands tapping nervously over her stomach. “So, everyone else made sure I knew _their_ side about everything that happened with you. The Pinto-something town in New Mexico, all the stuff in Germany and New York, trying to blow up some planet that Asgard doesn’t like but doesn’t not like _that_ much. . . anyways. I have their side. If I’m gonna decide what I think the truth is, though, I need _your_ side.” Her rush of words done, she glance over at him to see his reaction to her implied request.

He’d started out angry but as she’d talked, it had disappeared. In its place was a rush of unfamiliar emotions, not the least being surprise. No one had ever asked him that before, save Mother, and even then she’d only been asking for details to use in her argument with Odin. She’d hated his confession; he could see that.

“My brother is a prat.” Loki swallowed as he spoke the singular truth that had set so many events into motion. “You may not think it now, but there was a time when all he cared for was feasting, war, and his own glory. Odin had told us that one of us would be king, but even at four hundred, I knew he meant _Thor_ would be king. I couldn’t fight as well as he; on the field of battle, I chose to engage wits over brawn out of necessity. That earned me mockery.

“When the chance came to wound my brother’s overweening pride, I took it.” Loki laced his fingers together over his stomach, thinking back to the events of only a few years ago. “I let some jotun into the treasure room during Thor’s coronation. The interruption to the transfer of power was only meant to be a jest, but my brother’s demand that we retaliate caused Odin to reconsider his timing in giving him the throne.

“Thor was enraged and led the Warriors Three and the shieldmaiden Sif into battle against the Jotun.” Loki sighed. “He allowed me to come with them, for once, but I told a guard where we were going before we left. It was sheer madness, and had I not, we would all have died.”

Zoe propped herself up again, watching Loki’s face as he recounted the events. She listened quietly and intently, matching up the times and places with what she’d been told by Thor when the Avengers had staged their ‘Loki-vention’ with her.

“When we returned, Odin exiled Thor.” Loki fell silent, his jaw clenching for a moment. “That was when I found that my life was a lie. I was a foundling from Jotunheim. I confronted Odin about it, and the stress of our hard words put him into the Odinsleep.” He glanced at her suddenly, his green eyes as open and vulnerable as she’d ever seen them. “Do you know what that is?”

She shook her head silently, not sure if actually speaking might break this spell of sharing he seemed to be under.

“It is a perilous time for Odin, as well as Asgard.” His eyes returned to their contemplation of the  light fixtures overhead. “He sleeps in what you would call a coma, as weak as a mortal, while his power returns to him. It is a burden of Kingship, one which I felt briefly. With Thor exiled to Midgard and the King sleeping, the crown fell to me.

“They will tell you I took it, that I was a false King.” His fists clenched. “They lie. The elders of Asgard placed the crown on my head, after Mother begged me to take it, for the kingdom. I was the true King, and I intended to rule as best I could until Odin awoke.

“I knew that were Thor to return then he would be given the crown. He was Odin’s first pick, the first son, the one born to him.” Loki’s voice was thick with bitterness. “Tall and golden, a warrior of might, beloved as I was not. I stole down to Midgard and told him that the peace treaty with Jotunheim required him to remain in exile.” A wry smile crossed his face. “In my haste to secure victory, I may have oversold myself: I told him Odin had died and that Mother refused to allow Thor to return home. Do you think it cruel of me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! :)


	40. Up Your Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Slightly early update. :) Please, please, please post a comment! We're actively looking for feedback to help us learn what works and what doesn't with our writing. Thank you!

For just a moment she thought of lying or demuring so he would finish his story, but only for a moment. “Yes. I lost my parents when I was barely able to understand what that meant. Telling someone their father is dead and their mother doesn’t want to see them? That is mean.” She watched his reaction, then asked, “Did you really do it just to keep him from going back to Asgard and taking the crown?”

“Yes. I knew that Odin would awake and Thor would be brought home. I knew they would all be angry with me for my subterfuge, but I deemed it necessary to keep Thor from coming back and leading Asgard into needless war.” He sighed, shifting slightly on the pillows. “Then I killed the jotun king, Laufey, and sought to obtain peace by destroying Jotunheim. I do confess, I should not have been making decisions about the jotun right after learning I was one. Name a people you find brutish and violent, Zoe.”

“HYDRA,” Zoe said immediately, her voice flat with loathing.

“Then imagine you were raised to be what you are, only to learn that you were truly HYDRA. That the man you thought your father had merely found you abandoned after a battle. That you were the son of the king of HYDRA - excuse me, that you were the crown princess of HYDRA.” He watched her as he said, “Then someone gives you the power to end HYDRA as a people forever. I do not know if you would choose as I did, but in my grief, I tried to use the Bifrost as a weapon.”

She digested that, then said softly, “I would be angry, if I’d been lied to, but it sounds like Odin also _saved_ you. Not just your life, but from growing up on Jotunheim and being one of the people you hate so much. As for killing everyone . . . I hate the people that kidnapped me and I was glad when you killed Dr. Sadistic and her sidekick Mr. No-spine. They _deserved_ it. But I’ve read a lot of the SHIELD files now and I don’t think I’d be okay with just stamping everyone involved with HYDRA with the same label and then killing them. There are bad people there, obviously, and it’s probably most of them. But there are also scared people, brainwashed people, and just plain foolish people that are trying to do what they think is the right thing in totally the wrong way. I bet Jotunheim and the people there are the same way. So, y’know, mass extinction wouldn’t have been my first move, no. Death is so irrevocable and simple, and people are too complicated.”

“That must be my brutish and violent blood,” he said drily.

“Bullshit.” Zoe stated the profanity with absolute conviction. “Of anyone in the universe, Loki, _you_ make your own decisions. You could have been descended from marmots and been raised by Winnie the Pooh, and you’d still be you. Everything else is just window dressing.”

“I wanted them dead,” he said hotly, his fine skin darkening into a blush. “The universe would be a better place without them.”

Zoe didn’t have a good answer for that, so she remained silent and waited for him to resume his story.

“Thor returned to Asgard and we fought. Odin woke while we were fighting.” Loki tried to keep the pain from his voice as the humiliation and disappointment flooded through him again. “He was upset with me. When I realized he was taking Thor’s side once more, I let myself fall off of Asgard, into space.”

Her eyes widened and she asked, "How did you survive in _space_?"

“Jotun are stronger than humans,” he said casually. “It wasn’t comfortable, but I could survive, until one of Thanos’s ships found me.” That was a name that Zoe hadn’t heard from her intervention. “They took me to him.”

"Who is Thanos? Is he the leader of the Chitauri?" _Okay, way cooler than a Disney prince. He can survive in **space**!_

“More like their master.” Loki shivered slightly at the memory of the titan and hoped she didn’t see. “He is a monster who worships death. He has killed more people than I will ever meet in my long life, and will kill that many again. He made . . . use of me.

“The Chitauri staff was in his possession.” Loki forced the emotion out of his words. “He used it to subsume me to his will. He couldn’t quite bend me all the way, but-”

Zoe's hand crept over to his, her fingers tangling with his as she squeezed his hand in understanding and empathy.

“It was enough.” He held his hand still under hers, feeling an odd thrill running through him. He’d expected her mockery, not sympathy or kindness. “He started to talk about invading Asgard and I tried to turn his attention to Jotunheim. He showed no interest, so I told him of Midgard, to protect my home. At his command, I led an invasion of Midgard, a planet I had no desire to actually rule. Oh, I thought it would be worth it to wrest that realm from my brother, but then what would I do with it? Were you there when I came? Were you in Manhattan?”

“No. I was kidnapped a few weeks before then, from Prague. And yeah, trying to rule humans would suck. We’re kinda whiny and demanding and completely unruly.” She smiled at him, that amused gleam back. “If it didn’t involve all sorts of death and destruction, it’d be kinda funny to watch someone try.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” He was serious as he thought of Thanos. “That monster is without mercy.”

“So,” she prompted, “you invaded Earth to protect Asgard.”

“And myself.” He’d been close to breaking when he’d had the idea to bargain with Thanos. Sometimes, he thought he _had_ broken, and his idea had been his only way to deal with it. “And it failed, but I was out of the monster’s grasp, and back in Thor’s.”

“Odin sought to have me executed but Mother interceded. I was imprisoned, for life, I was told.” He paused as he came to this part of the story, feeling tears threaten. “Then the dark elves came, and killed Mother. Thor sought my help in vengeance, against Odin’s wishes. During the struggle to avenge her, I faked my own death and was left on Svartalfheim. From there, I tricked my way back to Asgard to find Odin falling into the Odinsleep again.” At Zoe’s frown, he said, “It had been many years, far too many, since his last sleep, and the one while I was king was short indeed. He needed it again. I assumed his visage and ruled for a time.

He smiled grimly. “Then Sif suspected something was amiss and found Odin, where I had hidden him safely away. When she confronted me, I fled Asgard and went in search of the Scepter. I had come to realize what it had done to me and I wished to nullify its hold on me.”

“And then you found me,” Zoe concluded. “My freedom was a lucky side effect of your quest for the Evil Fucking Staff of Mind Fuckery. That’s its formal title now, by the way.”

“Then I found you.” He rolled onto his side and propped up on an elbow. “You still need to teach me that trick.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and flopped back on her back. “Even if I wanted to - and I don’t want to teach _anybody_ \- I couldn’t. I still can barely control my TK. I can maybe lift some keys across the room if I concentrate real hard and when I get upset everything around me starts sliding and rattling, but that’s it. Verun thought learning telepathy from her would help me focus and learn control, and she said something about being stable enough to remember things. I _don’t_ remember whatever she’s talking about, so I guess I’m not stable enough yet.” Her eyes slid over to him and her voice took on a sardonic tone. “Besides, Mr. I-Can-Survive-In-Space, I hardly think you need my ‘little trick’ to defend yourself just fine.”

“Yes, but I would know it, if I could persuade it from you.” He found suddenly that he didn’t want to press her about this anymore. _Play it gentle and slow._ “Now that I have given you truth, I would have some from you. Why do you care about the edge of my blade?”

It took her a moment to parse what he meant. "Everyone has bias; everyone sees things differently and assumes motives and reasons for why other people do what they do." She studied the lights herself for a breath. "When the others told me their side of things, they didn't just have their regular biases but also the agenda of changing how I think about you. Before I make any kind of decision about how what you did in the past affects how I relate to you _now,_ I figured I should hear your side of the story too and then decide on my truth."

"And what have you decided?" he asked with false lightness. He was surprised that it actually mattered to him.

"I think," she started, trailed off. "I think a bunch of bad things happened, to everyone. I think you made some poor decisions and so did a number of other people in your life." She turned to face him, her expression somber. "And that sucks, especially when it makes grudges that no one even tries to get over and some of the people involved can't see where they were part of the problem too. I'm not going to run screaming for the hills because of it, but I do expect you to _learn_ from it all. To grow from the guy that made those mistakes into someone wiser and more mature. I'll judge you on what I've experienced myself, Loki, but," she gave him stern look, "if you're going to hang with me and be a part of my life, even just long enough to convince me to teach you my power, then you have _got_ to up your game."

"My game?" he asked, thrown by her slang.

"How you behave. It has to be better," she explained with only a hint of frustration.

"Then tell me what better means." For once, he wasn't mocking her. "I know that Midgardian ethics are different than Asgard's. Tell me what your required payment is for your friendship."

She shook her head. "It isn't payment, Loki. If you want people to like you, to look up to you and want to include you in things, then you need to be pleasant to be around. You need to treat them the way you would like to be treated. And not just the people you want to be friends with, but people in general. I don't want to hang out with someone that's rude or mean just because they can be or because they feel superior to others. It's embarrassing and reflects poorly on my character in choosing them as a friend as well. Does that make any sense to you?"

 _A little._ "You ask much of me," he said in a soft voice. He almost said nothing more, but in the quiet sanctuary, he felt as if he were in a safe place. "My words are my shield against the attacks of others." _If I do not care, it doesn't hurt._

"It's worth it," she promised, impulsively turning towards him and laying her head against his arm. "Friends are pretty good shields, too. With the added bonuses of being there for you if something bad does happen. Also, I'm not too shabby on dishing out the verbal smack down when it's deserved, especially in defense of a friend."

Her head was warm through his clothes and oddly distracting. While not ruled by his brother's former excesses, he was also not dead. "Then I shall have to save my cutting retorts for use in your defense then." He smiled a little as he played the fool. "Is that not how it works?"

"Mhm," she smiled up at him, glad she'd finally gotten up the courage to ask him about all of this. "Exactly."


	41. The Girlfriend

The plains of the American midwest disappeared, a vast forest stretching out beneath them. Tony took over the controls, instructing JARVIS to discontinue the autopilot.

“Over there,” Thor indicated, pointing towards a large clearing in the forest. As they approached it a small village came into view, the large round huts surprisingly primitive in appearance to the Earth-dwelling Avengers and the spacefaring Guardians. Tony shrugged and flew towards it, easing the jet down in the large expanse of space within visible walking distance of the main village.

“This is it,” Thor replied. “We should be welcomed here. It is the home village of my friend Hogun, though I do not know if he is here at present. We will present ourselves, and explain our presence. Then Peter Quill and I shall travel back to Midgard to retrieve my brother.”

Tony set the jet to stealth mode, then departed the ship and made their way towards the village. The villagers were guarded, but upon sighting Thor they relaxed, greeting the large group with curious but friendly smiles and greetings. Thor stepped aside for a moment to speak with one of the village leaders, and shortly afterwards they were shown to the largest hut, located in the center of the small community.

“The Asgardian prince and his companions are in need of space and discretion,” he informed the Vanir present in the Congregation Lodge. He turned to Thor and gestured towards the enclosed area. “Please avail yourself of our hospitality as long as you need, Your Highness. We will spread the word amongst the villagers that no outsiders are to be made aware of your presence.”

“Thank you,” Thor replied. Once the man had left the hut, Thor turned back towards the group. “Now if you will all excuse us, Star Lord Peter Quill and I shall be back shortly.” He clapped his hand on Peter’s shoulder and before the others could blink, they were gone.

 

~* ~ * ~

 

They appeared in Thor’s room in the Avenger’s manor. Peter glanced around curiously, taking in the strange mixture of decor. Beautifully carved furniture and luxury linens reminded him of fairy tales read to him in childhood. Over the bed hung a beautiful fabric tapestry that depicted scenes from Viking mythology. But on every surface there were strange, modern-looking trinkets and knick-knacks.

Over the fireplace mantle was a collection of odd plastic dolls with giant heads. There were dolls shaped, he realized after a moment, like several of the people he had just met; Captain America, Tony Stark in his Iron Man Suit, the attractive red-haired woman's, one of a black-clad man that he didn't recognize holding a bow and arrow, and Thor himself. There was also one of a muscle-bound green creature that was set, with the Captain America one, a little higher than the others. There were also several others he was startled to recognize, Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia from Star Wars, and Mickey and Minnie Mouse.

Peter tapped one of them. It bobbed up and down and he laughed, smiling wistfully. “Man, this is awesome. I wish we didn’t have to leave right away, I was hoping to spend some time back home. It’s been a really long time.”

“I feel confident that you will be able to return to your home planet, Star Lord Peter Quill. Tony Stark is a good man, but he is a cautious man. And the Black Widow is very protective of Midgard’s Sanctuary at the moment. We recently lost a friend,” he commented, hesitating briefly at the end of the sentence. For a moment Peter got the impression that Thor was going to say something else, but then the blonde demi-god made his way to the door and opened it, motioning for Peter to follow him. “Come, this way. We should be able to find them quickly.”

They made their way down the hallway, Thor pausing to knock on a couple doors along the way. When there was no answer he continued towards the main staircase but paused at a set of double doors leading out to a terrace. He opened the door, lifting a hand in greeting the slender suit-clad man perched on the edge of a lounge chair.

“Greetings, Phil Coulson." Thor lifted a hand in greeting. "I have returned, but only briefly. There is much to tell you and not much time, but I am seeking my brother.”

Phil motioned towards the seat directly across from him. “Here he is, right where you left him, Thor. I have to admit, he’s been very amenable.”

Thor glanced at the chair, and then back at Phil. “I am sorry to inform you, Son of Coul, that my brother has deceived you with an illusion.”

Phil glanced back at place where Loki had been sitting for the last couple of hours, quietly flipping through his book. The spot was, of course, empty. The illusion had been meant to trick only Phil, and once it was pointed out to him he was no longer deceived. Irritation flickered briefly across the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent’s face as he realized he’d been duped. “Damn it. JARVIS, where is Loki?”

“He is currently with Zoe Satelle in an undisclosed location.”

Phil’s face flushed. “Where are they?”

“My apologies, Agent Coulson, but I cannot divulge that information.”

“Why not?” Thor asked when he realized Phil was literally speechless with outrage.

“Because Ms. Satelle asked me not to tell Agent Coulson when she is in her current location.” The AI sounded apologetic but firm.

“Can you tell me?” Thor asked, stifling an inappropriate grin.

“Of course, Thor Odinson, but not if you are with Agent Coulson.” JARVIS still sounded regretful.

“What the fuck is going on?” Peter asked, looking worried. “Is the computer going all HAL?”

“No, it’s just that Stark sense of humor.” Phil rose, buttoning his coat with as much dignity as he could muster through his fury. He took another look at Peter and asked, “Who are you?”

“Peter Quill, but you may know me as Star-Lord.” The half-human straightened proudly.

“No, can’t say as I have. Excuse me, Thor. I need to talk to a man about a computer hacker.” Turning sharply on his heel, Phil stalked away from them.

“JARVIS?” Thor asked.

“If you’ll follow my instructions, Thor Odinson.” The AI led Thor and Star-Lord through the halls to an uninhabited apartment. “They are inside.”

Thor mentally prepared himself for dealing with his brother and knocked on the door.

Inside the room, Zoe looked up from the pillow fort towards the door, frowning. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

“No,” Loki sighed, dropping his half-eaten chip back in the bag, “I believe that is for me. These also are disgusting.”

“What kind of person doesn’t like Cheddar Sun Chips?” Zoe asked, staring at the scattered bags of opened snack foods.

“One with taste,” Loki grumbled as he opened the door. “Hello, brother.”

“Loki, I bring grave news.” Thor started to say.

Peter was looking over Thor’s shoulder. “Wow, it looks like someone has the major munchies.”

Loki ignored the unknown mortal to sneer at his brother, “What dire information would you need to share with me? Has Odin decided to execute me after all?”

“No, Sif has been taken by the sceptre.” Thor’s eyes flicked from his brother to Zoe. “She is in its thrall.”

“Well, fuck,” Zoe said from behind them, coming up to stand next to Loki. “I thought your father had that thing locked up all tight on Asgard? I mean, isn’t that why we took it there?”

“Yes, and Sif was claimed by it there.” Thor stared at Loki, his eyes pleading. “Brother, please come and help us. We have gathered in Vanaheim to discuss this with the Guardians of the Galaxy.”

“The who?” Loki asked, baffled.

“Me and my group.” Peter grinned broadly. “I’m Peter Quill but you might know me as Star-Lord.”

“Are you guys a band or something?” Zoe asked; that was the only way she could see someone walking around calling themselves ‘Star-Lord’ with a straight face.

“No, we’re heroes. We saved a whole planet from extinction.” Peter adopted an air of false modesty as he added, “I’m their leader.”

“Why Vanaheim?” Loki dismissed the self-important mortal to return to the pressing issue.

“It is one place Sif will not think to look for some time. If she learns that Peter is from Earth, she will certainly come here looking for him and the Tesseract and the other Infinity Stone they took from her.”

Loki stiffened. “How many does she have?”

“Two, now.” Thor answered his question, but the brothers managed, for the first time in a century or two, to silently communicate just how dangerous that was.

“Uh, Infinity Stones? What are those? Were they in the vault also?” Zoe asked, confused now.

“They’re gems of immense power, left from the last universe.” Loki seemed to lose himself in thought; when he snapped out of it, he asked, “Do you want to come with us, Zoe?”

“Brother, we don’t need someone who is not capable of defending herself on the field of battle.” Thor took a step closer. “Loki - Sif has been joined with the Aether.”

Zoe frowned at Thor, annoyed by his dismissal of her even if his reasoning was true. “I want to go. The point is to hide the Stones somewhere Sif won’t look for them, right? So, the point is for it _not_ to be a field of battle. And Verun will be there, I’m assuming? If I’m going to learn to control my powers so I can be more useful than ‘would you like fries with that?’, then I need to keep up my exercises with her. And with everyone else on learning how to fight.” She crossed her arms resolutely. “I’m not baggage. I’m just _new_.”

“And she’s coming,” Loki said firmly. “I won’t cooperate unless she comes.”

“So you’ll cooperate if we bring her?” Thor leapt upon the implication in Loki’s words.

“Then let’s get you and your girlfriend packed and hit the road.” Peter had been patient long enough. “We’re wasting time here.”

Thor waited quietly, his eyes on his brother. “Very well,” Loki finally agreed. “If Zoe comes, I will cooperate.”

Zoe had blushed in surprise when Peter called her Loki’s girlfriend. She would have said something to deny the label, but Loki’s acquiescence rendered her completely speechless. She stared at the jotun for a moment, wondering if he’d been replaced by a mirror doppleganger or one of those robot men from Dr. Who. Loki ignored her scrutiny with too much focus to be unintentional.

“Gather what you need,” Thor commanded both of them, “and meet me in the main hall. I must inform the Son of Coul and Hawkeye of what has transpired. Star-Lord Quill, please remain with them.”

“Uh, no, it’s...just Star-Lord," Peter mumbled at Thor’s wide back as the thunder god walked away. 

Loki smirked at the mortal and said, "You'll be a century or two of reminding him before he'll even be aware he's made an ass of himself. Again."

 

~* ~ * ~

 

Twenty minutes later, they were all gathered together again. “Lady Zoe,” Thor rumbled as he rejoined the three of them, “the son of Coul is quite wroth with you.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “When isn’t he? For a man I met a week ago, he certainly likes to try to be my overprotective, overbearing father.”

“He means well,” Thor remarked gently, “and his heart is in the right place.”

“He’s decided that _he_ knows what’s best for me and is trying to chaperone my life like some zealous parent. He may have been paid to to keep track of me and make sure my medical bills got paid, but he _wasn’t_ a father to me. I didn’t even know he existed! I’m not ten now. I don’t need a dad to approve of who I spend time with or what I choose to do with my life.” The tirade was spilling out of her and now that she had started she wasn’t going to stop. “He’s a nice guy. He really is. I’m not saying he’s a bad person or anything. He just needs to back off on treating me like some rebellious teen he’s got to reign in. I make my own decisions, and when I make stupid ones I’ll take my lumps for them. But I’m a grown woman. I want _friends_ , not overbearing big brothers or daddy stand-ins.”

Thor just bowed his head. “I was merely making an observation. Everyone, gather together.” He pulled out the Tesseract; Loki’s eyes latched onto it like a child seeing a toy in a store. The four of them moved around Thor and in a flash of light, found themselves in a rustic lodge with the rest of the Avengers.

“What is she doing here?” Tony asked, pointing at Zoe.

“Loki wouldn’t leave without his girlfriend,” Peter said, jerking his thumb at the white-haired woman.

“So Clint owes me five bucks,” Natasha muttered softly.

Tony just rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Oh, say, Thor - did you remember to tell Jane you were going off planet?” Thor’s face fell immediately and Tony held out an open hand to Natasha. “ That five bucks is mine now Romanov, and yeah, I’m so gonna tape the moment she does find out. For posterity.”


	42. Break It Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! We joined a gym yesterday and today was our fist day to go swimming. I got excited and forgot to post before we left. Here you go!

“You have all been tricked.” Loki cut into the conversation, his voice an angry hiss. The prince stepped forward, subtly putting himself between Zoe and the Guardians. Everyone turned to him with various expressions of surprise or confusion, except for one person. Across the room, Gamora met Loki’s gaze, arching an eyebrow smoothly at his narrowed eyes and furious expression.

“This ‘Star-Lord’ claims that he and his friends are heroes,” Loki continued, his voice full of venom. “This woman is no hero. She is a daughter of Thanos, and a deadly assassin.”

“Yes, and you’re such a pillar of virtue,” Gamora quipped back, looking amused. “Last time I saw you, you were off on your way to conquer a world. Their world, from what I hear.”

“At least I never served him of my own free will.” Loki spat the words. “He had to use the Sceptre to bend me-”

She threw herself across the room at him, fury in her eyes. “I _never_ served him freely! I had no choice but to do as he ordered or die!” Gamora grabbed him and pinned him to a table; Loki laughed mockingly as her sword pressed against his throat.

“Gamora!” Quill approached her with his hands held out in a silent plea to stop. “We talked about this! This is why we don’t have any friends!”

Before she could respond, an invisible force buffeted the green-skinned woman, sending her and several of the tables behind her tumbling to the floor. She leapt back to her feet instantly, lifting the sleek metal sword up over her head as if to throw it at the sneering princeling.

The response was simultaneous. “Zoe,” Verun said calmly but her eyes were wide with fear as she reached out and shut the woman’s mind down. Emma stepped in front of Gamora, arm extended and fingers splayed in a gesture that mirrored Peter’s only moments before. Gamora felt herself freeze - not by choice but because suddenly, she was unable to move. Every inch of metal cybernetic enhancement in her body was being held in place, along with the sword poised over her head. Zoe collapsed into Verun’s arms.

Drax stepped up behind Emma, his fist raised over his head. “Emma!” Tony yelped but it was Bucky who was there first, shoving Emma away and getting his shield up in time to stop the crushing blow.

“Everyone, stop!” Peter bellowed and hopped up on a table. A few feet away, Thor hesitated, his hammer in hand. “Just stop!”

The Guardians hesitated, Rocket with his rifle in hand and Groot with twelve-foot arms hovering expectantly. The Avengers hesitated, as Loki pushed himself off the table and put a hand to his throat. It came away bloody. “You always did have a way to cut me to the quick,” he told the green-skinned woman.

Gamora relaxed as the invisible bonds on her cursed cybernetics were released. “And you always had a way of being an ass, Loki.”

“Didn’t stop you from laying with me,” he smirked. Sadly, he said it just as Verun awaken Zoe, who caught his words.

From the top of the table, Peter’s head snapped toward Gamora like a dog going on point. “You’ve slept with this dick but not me?” The half-human sounded truly hurt.

Gamora rolled her eyes. “Loki, you always did go for the cheap shot.”

“It’s a gift,” he told her smugly.

Emma stood up slowly, dusting herself off. “Great, now that we’ve got that out of the way. Loki, your warning is appreciated.” He glanced at her sharply, surprised and suspicious of Stark’s female toady, and the sincerity of her tone. “Gamora did inform us of her relation to Thanos, however. She has a story, _just like you._ ” Loki didn’t appear impressed by her words.

“Yes, and now is a great time to find out why a daughter of the guy who orchestrated all of this is on our side,” Tony said. He’d held off those questions until now but that was, in his mind, a big one.

“You wanna tell this one, or should I?” Peter asked her.

“No, I will.” Gamora sighed but gamely told how she was adopted by Thanos, her life there, and the circumstances by which she escaped his grasp. As the others took seats and got food, Peter and the Guardians told how the Orb had been taken by Ronan and the lengths to which they had gone to recover it. Their description of the Collector’s history lesson on the Infinity Stones drew frowns from everyone, but the group quietly listened as they finished the tale. Thor in turn told them about Aether, and Bucky described the long history of the Tesseract. When it came time to tell them about the Sceptre, Loki took over the task of storytelling, ending with the seizure of the item of power by SHIELD. Only then did Zoe tell them about her time with HYDRA, forced to kill over and over in the name of science. Thor ended the tale by telling them how the sceptre had come close enough to Sif to enslave her.

“So,” Peter looked around the group, feeling a little strange at how many humans, real live actual humans, were in it. “What do we do now?”

“We are in a war, not of just of the battlefield but for hearts and minds of those we love.” Thor looked around the room, his expression grave. Though he was always somber during war, few had seen him so grim. “We have to learn what we face.”

“So let’s break it down,” Emma stated as she began to tick them off her fingers. “First, we have two of the Infinity Stones, and we have to figure out how to keep them safe. That’s proven notoriously hard to do so far. Secondly, we know who is in possession of four of these stones, but according to this Collector there are six. That leaves two of them unaccounted for. And finally, we need to figure out how to deal with Sif while doing our best not to harm her permanently. Though if Sif is the woman you’ve described, Thor, she would want us to do whatever it takes rather than let this thing that’s controlling her harm others any further. Believe me about that,” she finished, her expression grim and knowing.

“Verun, if you got close enough to her, could you knock her out like you did to me?” There was no acrimony in Zoe’s words; frankly she was relieved that her panic hadn’t killed someone.

Verun frowned. “Perhaps, but we must be prepared to expect that the staff will shield her. I don’t know if I could directly challenge a mind actively wielding the sceptre and being controlled by it.”

“Is disarming her enough?” Tony asked, glancing at Emma briefly. “You could probably manage that, right?”

Emma nodded in reply. “Yes, most likely. Asgardians are strong, but I could probably handle that much. We could test it with Thor or Loki, I suppose.”

“And I’ll train more with Verun,” Zoe offered. “Maybe if I get my TK under control, Emma and I could work together to make sure we could get the Evil Fucking Staff of Mind Fuckery - former title, I called it - away from Sif so Verun can make her pass out.”

“Loki?” Thor leaned toward his brother. “What do you know of the stones?”

All eyes turned to the jotun. “There are six of them,” he said, his voice a smooth lecture tone. “They are remnants from each previous incarnation of the universe. It is said they are the elements from which the _first_ universe was made and because they existed before there was existence, they cannot be destroyed. They each control an aspect of reality: the mind, physics, time, space, souls, and, hmn. Reality, I suppose. The Aether was subverted by Malekith into a weapon and it was always the least understood of the Stones.

“Historically, the stones tend to migrate toward one another in a manner that isn’t very clear,” he continued, his eyes distant and his fingers tapping on the table. “They seem to come together periodically, usually right before a time of great upheaval and death.”

“Are they that destructive?” Tony asked, his voice sharp.

“Yes, but it’s more that the person wielding the Infinity Gauntlet is the cause of that destruction.” Loki shifted slightly, his gaze passing over the room. “The six stones can be gathered together and the Gauntlet allows their possessor to use them all at once. The wielder becomes almost a god. Not like Odin was worshiped by mortals, but a being that truly has the power to rewrite the universe.”

“Let me get this straight,” Peter said. “Those aspects of reality - what kind of control are we talking about?”

“Infinite, hence the name.” Loki leaned forward. “The lore is clear: you want to be the being wearing the gauntlet, not their opposition.”

“So we have two of the stones, we know Sif has two more, and we need to find the last two,” Thor said. “What of the Gauntlet? Where is it?”

“No doubt Sif has it.” Loki smiled grimly at the expressions around the table. “It was kept in Odin’s vault. Grabbing it immediately would have been the only chance to seize it.”

“Tell us what you know of the locations of the two remaining stones,” Thor prompted.

“I don’t know. The Time Gem was held by the titan Kronos some time long ago,” Loki said thoughtfully, “but I’m not sure about the other. We should consult the Magical Archives here on Vanaheim. If I’m recalling correctly, there is a series of books called the Annals of Kronos that detail his time ruling the realms.”

Thor nodded to his brother and considered for a moment. “Tomorrow then, Verun will take Loki, Tony, and Natasha to the Archives and determine what more can be learned. The rest of us shall spend the day devising battle strategies for confronting Sif.” He turned storm-blue eyes on the one human in the room he knew not at all. “Star-Lord Quill, are you comfortable to continue carrying the Tesseract and Power Stone? It would mean that should Sif discover us here, you would need flee the battle as quickly as possible to secure the Stones in another location. There would likely not be time to gather all your companions to you,” he added gravely.

Peter glanced around at the Guardians, his expression serious and contemplative for once. His eyes fell on Gamora and he smiled slightly. “No,” he said softly, a hint of regret in his voice. He reached into his pouch and put the Orb on the table. “No, I wouldn’t leave them behind.”

The crown prince of Asgard nodded, his estimation of the leader of the Guardians rising with the young man’s honest admission. “Then Verun, I would ask if you would take this burden. From what you have said, you are widely travelled enough to know of many places to go and Sif will not know you well enough to know where to follow. Will you accept the Stones?”

There was a short silence from the Vanir woman as she glanced at Captain America. “Don’t worry about me, doll,” Bucky told her with a grin, “survival is one thing I do well.”

“Captain America has a girlfriend? A hot wizard girlfriend?” Peter all-but squealed. Natasha looked away, her expression going hard.

Sighing, Bucky unsnapped his chin strap and removed the helmet, resting it on the table. He stared at the half-Terran Guardian, who frowned and said, “I thought you were a blond.”

“Steve Rogers is. Was. I’m not.” Bucky leaned forward, his blue eyes locking with Peter’s.

“Duh.” Peter looked disappointed and then sighed. “Well, yeah, he’s dead. He went down in the ice. But I thought that they’d keep you blonde, like Bond is always dark-haired.”

“Well, things change,” Tony said briskly, “and last year’s Bond was a black woman.”

As the Guardian struggled to assimilate that nugget of cultural shift, Thor said, “Verun.”

“Yes, I’ll do it.” She nodded to Thor. “Of course I’ll do it.”

“Then we shall convene for the night.” He rose and the others followed his lead. “Give me time to talk to Hogun, and we shall have lodging for the night.”


	43. Counseling

They all went to the tents that had been erected for them, which were sturdy but completely mobile affairs. They found that there were only four tents set up, two large and two small. “One for each of the Asgardian princes,” their host explained, “and one for the men and one for the women.”

“Verun is our sister,” Thor said, ignoring the fact that she wasn’t his sister by blood.

“We’ll sleep together,” Peter added, “and not in that gross orgy way but in the way that we always sleep together in the same place.”

Two more tents were erected quickly, with the Guardians jumping in to help with theirs. During this commotion, Zoe saw Loki slip away, headed for his private tent. He glanced back at the opening, and she caught a glimpse of his face, twisted with pain or fear. Then he disappeared from her sight, pulling the hide covering over his door.

She glanced around to make sure she wasn’t needed and that everyone else seemed engaged in getting ready for the night. She slipped away from the group and stopped just outside the entrance flap. “Loki, it’s Zoe,” she said quietly, pitching her voice to carry only into the tent. “May I come in?”

There was no verbal answer but the hide cover twitched open. When she entered, she found Loki sitting on the floor, arms on his knees, struggling to breathe. She knelt down across from him, placing her hands on his feet and moving her head to try to catch his eyes. “Loki, can you hear me? Take a slow deep breath, if you can.” She watched his reaction carefully, going over what Sam had said and done for her when she’d had panic attacks after nightmares while she was in Sanctuary.

It took a while before he could obey her instruction, and she felt like she sat there forever, willing him to breathe more easily. Finally, he lifted his head and gasped, “Gamora.” Just her name brought another shudder to him and he didn’t add anything more.

She didn’t try to press him into elaborating; instead, she slid her hands up his legs until they were resting on his hands over his knees. “Just keep breathing,” she said, her voice calm and smooth. “Try to count to ten while breathing in and then back down to one when you breathe out. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Don’t. Tell. Anyone.” The words escaped on each exhale until the final two, “Especially Thor.” Under her fingers, his hands tightened over his knees, squeezing tightly against the leather.

“Of course not,” she said quickly, startled that he’d think someone would just go blabbing around about something like this. _Then again, the Asgardians kinda seem like dicks._ “Is it okay that I’m touching you? Do you want me to stop?” She didn’t want to let go of him, but this wasn’t about her right now.

He shook his head tightly, stiff jerks that looked painful to her. “No one else.” He looked at her with effort and whispered, “You were the only--only one who--cared to ask.”

The pain in his voice knocked the air from her and she moved without thinking. Her arms slid around him as she shifted to pull him into a comforting hug; she pressed her cheek against his hands. "I'm here," she murmured. "I'll be here as long as you want me to be and you can tell me anything you want to. I'm here for you."

Loki stiffened under her touch and for a second she wondered if she’d made a mistake. He didn’t object, though, relaxing in slow increments like ice thawing in spring. Finally, he said, “She was there. When Than-- _Thanos broke me_.” He dragged the words out of the deepest pit of his stomach. “She watched. When it was done, there was pity in her eyes.”

"You're not broken now," she reminded him, "and you're not alone. If she looks at you the wrong way, I'll TK her into next Thursday. And then blow up Thursday." Her arms tightened around the godling. "Maybe Wednesday and Friday too, just to make sure."

He lifted his head and stared at her with narrowed eyes. “Why do you care?” he asked with the cold haughtiness of his royal upbringing. “Why do you defend me?”

She met his eyes with her own calm rainbow-hued irises. "Because you're my friend, Loki. Rescuing me might have been a side effect of your search for the staff, but you still did it. And since then you've treated me like a competent adult, not a little kid or some fragile, damaged wallflower. You look at me and you look at _me_ , not some version of me you wish I was." She rested her head against him again. "That means a lot to me and makes me want to know you better and be able to be there for you when you need someone, just like I did."

He was silent and still for a long moment, his expression losing its pinched, hostile look. Moving suddenly, he cupped her chin and pulled her face up to his. “I didn’t know rescuing you would gain me so much,” he murmured, just before he kissed her.

She squeaked in surprise at the kiss, an unbearably cute sound, before she returned it enthusiastically. _Okay, not what Sam would recommend, I bet, but then I’m not actually a counselor._ She leaned against him, slowly trailing her fingers up to glide over his face and tangle behind his neck in his hair. She made another noise, an almost-moan low in the back of her throat, before reluctantly breaking the kiss to take a breath.

He didn’t give her a chance to do more than inhale before he pressed his lips to hers again. His legs shuffled until he was cross-legged; he pulled her into his lap with an effortless lift. The jotun held her tight, turning memories of his time with Thanos into the memories of touching her and holding her. After another long moment of frantic kissing, he slipped his arms under her knees and back, and stood up.

She started again then nuzzled against his neck, breathing in the scent of him. He carried her to the bed, a wooden frame covered in thick hides. When she put a hand down to brace herself, it sank into dark fur, too rich and full to be synthetic.

Loki knelt between her knees and leaned over her, his eyes intense as he began to push up her shirt. She started to protest instinctively, but he kissed her and cut off the words. As his hands moved up he could feel the lines and whorls of her scars stretched along the otherwise pleasant curves of her skin. She shivered underneath his touch, frightened that he might reject her now that he knew how ugly her body was and yet still desperately starved for this kind of intimate contact. She watched him as he explored her, her expression vulnerable and tense.

He didn’t seem to notice her fears, his lips trailing over scarred skin as easily as smooth. In between kisses and stripping her, he was taking off his own clothing, tearing each piece off his body and tossing it aside. His need was painted in his frantic motions and heated kisses as he undressed them both.

His skin brushed over hers, and he knelt between her legs. She felt his hand slip down her thigh to cup her sex, his fingers probing at her slit. His slender middle finger slid inside her, and he groaned at the wet warmth.

Her hips bucked against him and she whimpered for more. Her hands grabbed at the fur beneath her, looking for leverage to push harder against him. "God you're beautiful," she breathed as she took in the smooth, toned expanse of his chest and the muscles of his arms, usually all hidden by green cloth and leather armor.

“Well, now I am,” he whispered, kissing down her skin once more. This time, he found and claimed a nipple with his teeth. His finger slipped deeper inside her, slowly testing her. Leisurely, he withdrew and explored higher, finding her clit and rubbing it gently. She made a soft sound of pleasure in response and he grinned a little. “Tell me if I go too far,” he murmured and started to kiss his way down her body.

 _'Now I am?' Was he an ugly duckling with the Aesir? Probably by their standards. Morons. **Blind** moro- _Her thoughts cut off in a gasp when his fingers found the sensitive nub of flesh. His request gathered a few of her wits together. "C-condom?" She stuttered, then tried again, "Do you have a condom? I'm not on any birth control."

"My seed will not flourish in your frame, " he told her, his breath whispering over her bellybutton. "You are mortal, I am jotun. The higher races cannot breed with the lower."

She propped herself up on her elbows and gave him an arch look. "For a man looking to get laid, that probably wasn't the best way to phrase that." Her tone was mostly teasing, but had an undercurrent of annoyance and hurt.

He sighed and rested his cheek on her inner thigh. "It is the term used for any race that has a limited life span and no notable power. I suppose we could take time to devise other names. Or," he gave her slow, deliberate lick just to the side of her labia, "we can continue our fun. Which do you prefer?"

She shivered uncontrollably, sinking back onto the furs. "Later," she decided firmly. "We can talk about it later."

“I thought that might be for the best,” he said, and his voice was _so_ smug that she opened her mouth to say something. Her words caught and died in her throat when he turned that tongue to her sex, slipping between her folds.

She moaned loudly, her hips rolling up to meet him and demanding more. His tongue felt amazing and part of her mind giggled as it reminded her that he was over a thousand years old. Age had its merits, it seemed. As he wound her up with slow licks and fast, teasing flicks of his tongue, she panted a plaintive, "Loki!" She wanted, _needed_ , more of him.

He answered her with his own need, judging by her voice that she wanted something else. He moved up her body swiftly and rubbed his hard cock on her slit. The head pressed into her clit for a moment before he changed the angle of his hips and pressed the tip into her body. Bracing his hands on the bed, he smoothly completed the motion, sheathing himself fully inside her. “You feel good,” he murmured in her ear, rocking his hips gently.

She moaned his name again and matched the slow cadence of his hips with her own. His breath on her ear made goosebumps run down her neck arms; she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, holding him as deeply inside her as she could. "So good," she hummed in agreement, threading her fingers through his hair and nipping at the side of his neck.

He growled at the nip but when she snuck a look at his face, she realized it was a good noise. His eyes blazing with lust, the disgraced prince of Asgard picked up his pace, his cock moving faster and faster inside of her. His kisses were now sprinkled with nips of his own, some of which were hard enough to touch the blurry line between pain and pleasure.

She scratched her nails down his back as her body began to vibrate with mounting pleasure. She wanted to hear him growl again, to feel his voice thrum through her from her ears down to where they were joined. "Loki," she uttered his name like an obscene prayer. "Oh god, yes. Please, Loki, please yes more." She knew her words weren't entirely coherent, but she couldn't stop begging him - not to stop, for more, even just to hear his name and know that it was _him_ making her feel so deliciously delirious.

Loki stiffened over her, another low growl echoing over her skin. His motions faltered, and she realized he’d come. In Zoe’s single previous experience this was the end, but Loki merely sat up and slipped a hand between their bodies. His strokes into her sex didn’t stop, merely changed, becoming slower and angling differently. “Does this bring you pleasure?” he asked huskily, wiggling his fingers until they were stroking her clit.

She nodded and moaned what she hoped was a 'yes', her back arching up as his touch brought her so close to her own ecstasy. Her palms and heels dug into the plush fur beneath them. The silky smoothness of the pelts offered too little resistance for her, though it felt good against her sweat-slicked skin. "Don't stop," she begged between ragged breaths, "please don't stop."

He lowered his head and kissed the burn scar that edged along her lower ribs. “I won’t,” he vowed, before his flicking tongue explored the boundary between whole and marked skin. He kept up his steady, maddening pace, patient in the afterglow of his own orgasm. He leaned on his experiences to try to bring to pleasure, wondering if mortals climaxed as higher races did. _Or whatever new name she will find for us,_ he thought with bemusement as he traced the underside of her breast to the nipple in one long lick. The peaked nipple he claimed with his mouth, suckling it firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!


	44. Conundrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! :) Also, this is our five month anniversary! Woot! Forty four updates with no interruptions! Yay!

After the fire, the only people that had touched her scars were the doctors. Zoe remembered how much it had hurt at first and how she'd learned to avoid bumping into other people as a matter of survival while her skin healed. As she healed she lost nearly all sensation where the scar tissue had formed.

Years passed in this touch-solitude and then had come college and hormones and boys and _Zach_. He had been handsome and nice, inviting her to parties at his fraternity and paying attention to her in a way no one ever had at the hospital. He introduced her to her first drink, her first kiss, and a few months after they'd met, her first time with a man. She'd trusted him and while she was sleeping the next morning he'd taken pictures of her naked and posted them on his Twitter account with the caption: "Current pussy count: freshmen girls 16, freshman freaks 1."

Afterwards, she could barely stand to _shower_ naked. Even though the pictures had been pulled down in record time and Zach had been expelled not just for the tweet but because they'd also found evidence that he was selling heroin from a homemade website on his laptop, she was never able to trust anyone else enough to bare her body to them. Loki was the first person to touch any of her skin beyond her hands in seven years. Even her captors with HYDRA had left her alone; she was thankful for that, but it always hurt a little to wonder if it was some twisted sense of honor on their part or just because they all found her repulsive.

Loki had seen her, had touched her and kissed her scars without reservation or revulsion. And Zoe learned that sometime in those seven years her skin had become highly sensitive to touch. Everywhere he kissed, but most especially along the borders between rough scars and smooth skin, her nerves tingled and throbbed from his attention. When he clamped down on her nipple her world fractured into bliss. She arched against his mouth, her body rigid and trembling as her orgasm crashed through her. She cried out his name again and then collapsed bonelessly against the bed as the tide of sensation ebbed.

The jotun smiled with victory as he propped himself on his elbows. He’d _heard_ from Fandral that mortal women were similar enough to the other races that it wasn’t difficult to pleasure them, and he was pleased to know that the blond man hadn’t steered him wrong. He kissed her lightly in various spots on her torso, more to calm her pounding heart than to arouse her again. “Am I to assume that you enjoyed this encounter?” he asked with a smile, shifting his hips and moving his still-hard cock inside her.

She moaned from the movement before she could reply, keeping her (admittedly noodle-esk) legs wrapped around him so he couldn't pull out of her yet. She grinned up at him, languid and satisfied for the moment. "Mmm, quite." She trailed her fingertips over the sides of his thighs in lazy circles. "You?"

“Yes.” He paused for a moment, growing more somber. “Thank you.” Gamora had done this for him a few times, but he didn’t see pity in Zoe’s eyes now, only serenity.

She made a happy, contented noise and nodded. "Oh, it was certainly my pleasure." She flashed him an impish smile. "You have created quite the conundrum for me now, though."

“Have I?” he purred, nuzzling a nipple, then alternating between licking and blowing on it. “That is my favorite thing to fashion. What are the details of my creation?”

“Mmhmm,” she murmured, shivering as goosebumps chased around her body from his ministrations again. “Well, before this I’d had sex exactly once; it was awkward at best and then became a nightmare afterwards, so I didn’t care about being celibate.” She gave a coquettish stretch, wiggling herself in just the right ways to elicit a lustful hiss from her partner in crime of the evening. “But, see, now I know sex can be _good_. Fun.” She bit her lip, staring up at him through her lashes, “Addictive, even. With the right person.”

_Who just so happens to be alien prince with literally an eon’s worth of life experience. Who wants **me**. My life is kinda awesome right now._

Loki crooked an eyebrow at her, and Zoe couldn’t tell if it was cute or annoyingly smug. “Well, there is no need to be celibate. Unless you are uninterested in having good and fun sex.”

She wanted to say something smart and sassy, to sound sophisticated, but her bravado chose that moment to wander off somewhere else on its own. She sat up slowly, giving them both time to adjust until she was sitting in his lap, still delightfully filled by him. “So, not just a one night stand?” she asked as she draped her arms around him. Her words were light, but her expression was a mix of hope and fear. Being honest, being vulnerable, it was risky business. “Not just a ‘what happens on Vanaheim stays on Vanaheim’ moment?”

“One night stand? Would you really want this to be a single night?” He cupped her ass and began to move her in slow, delectable surges. “I know that Midgardians are short-lived, but not so short that they would deny themselves multiple nights of pleasure?”

She moaned into his shoulder and then giggled. “I’ll take it Asgard has never heard of serial dating? Finally, the place has something going for it other than impossible waterfalls.” She had another snarky comment to make, but Loki thrust just a bit harder, rubbing against a more sensitive area inside her. She made a keening cry as ecstasy flashed along her nerves for a split second, then buried her face into the side of his neck, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin there.

He groaned as her lips and teeth sent a spiral of pleasure down his nerves, but his voice was mostly even as he said, “Dating is not a thing on Asgard. Courting is a better term. And there are no one night stands, or multiple night stands. The only standing done is in the marriage bed.”

“How awkward," she murmured, then snorted in amusement at her own joke. "So, Asgard is a ‘wait until marriage’ place?” she asked, her breath starting to come in little gasps as he gradually increased his pace. “Figures. Between all the golden phallic buildings and medieval everything-but-the-teleporter, I rather expected to see a bunch of nuns with rulers running around smacking people for showing their ankles or something.” She kissed up his jaw and nibbled on his lower lip. “Though if you’re the example of Asgard sex, then there’s a strong argument that it’s worth waiting for.” She grinned puckishly up at him and added, “Stronger argument for getting it on as soon as and as often as possible, in my personal humble little opinion.”

“It is not a bad opinion.” He began to trace arcane symbols up and down her spine, his hand rising and falling with his thrusts. “My talent is not entirely natural. I--” He paused and smiled a little. “It is poor form to talk of one lover while enjoying another.”

“Mmm, well, I already did, sorta. Though he certainly wasn’t a _lover_.” She nuzzled against his neck again, enjoying their slow lovemaking and the conversation. It was totally unlike her college experience and it felt deeper, more intimate, because they _were_ talking. “I don’t mind. I’m not the retroactively jealous type. You’re here with me right now, and that makes me happy. I’d rather we could talk openly with each other than worry about comparing myself to someone you’re not with anymore.”

“Gamora was the only other I’ve been with.” His movements became faster and sharper, matching the turmoil that was still almost completely hidden in his voice. “I adhered to the cultural norms of Asgard, but when I fell, it didn’t seem to matter. When she offered comfort from the tortures Thanos piled up on me, I accepted. It was liberating to cast off those norms and restrictions.”

Zoe's breath hitched as he moved faster within her, her mind buzzed with pleasure every time he brushed against that sensitive place inside her. She did manage a smile for him through her distraction. “Friends with benefits? Or frenemies with benefits?”

“We were . . . lonely,” he told her in a quiet voice. “In pain. Thanos destroyed her family and people, and made her watch. Our torments were not the same, but in the end our hatred was, and it was enough for then.”

His tone sobered her; she tightened her arms around him, pulling him as close as she could. She remembered how lonely she’d been with HYDRA and how she would cling to any little thing to make it through the day: pretending the dripping water from one of the overhead pipes was a metronome, playing invisible instruments in a silent concert to the bugs and occasional mouse, _anything_ just to make it to the next moment, the next hour, the next day. She knew that torment and she was grateful someone had been there with Loki to offer what little respite might be found in such misery. “Then I should be thankful to her,” she said quietly, kissing along his neck and shoulders. “She was an excellent tutor.”

“Given her reception of me in the lodge, I doubt she’d appreciate such sentiment.” Loki didn’t change his rhythm or pace as he added, “Nor would any of your companions be pleased to hear of what we did tonight - and will do again.”

"Well, they're not invited to the nightly orgy then. No orgy for them. We'll just have to make do with an orgy of two." She sighed theatrically, still keeping pace with him, though it was getting more difficult to remember her words as her pleasure coiled and built within her. "It's a heavy burden to bear - and hard, and hot, and mmph-" she tilted her hips, undulating against him as she hummed in pleasure, "yeah, _that_ , but somehow we'll manage. Also, you did kinda start things before."

She held up her hands at his look, shifting her balance to her thighs. "With good cause, yeah, but hopefully she'll cool off by morning, we can spend the night like this, and everyone can be in a better mood to start again tomorrow." She leaned up and gave him a slow smoldering kiss. "Sound good?"

“It sounds perfect, actually.” He returned his other hand to her ass but this time he wasn’t just lifting her; his fingers started to creep between her cheeks. He went slowly, giving her time to object if she wanted to. “I don’t share anyway. It seems that she has something brewing with her fellow Guardian - or at least he believes that’s so.”

“Men usually do,” she teased. She didn’t seem concerned by his wandering hands, but her attention was also rather firmly on his neck now, trailing hickies and bites down to the curve of his shoulder as she tried to elicit another one of his seductive growls. His scent washed over her as she licked at his skin, a heady mixture of leather, sweat, and something she couldn’t quite place. It reminded her of watching snow fall in the winter.

He shifted sharply, dumping them both back onto the bed, though this time he was supporting her ass with an arm around her, keeping her lower body in the air. He thrust harder and faster, his other hand playing over her clit and the stretched lips of her labia. “And what am I to believe of you?” he asked teasingly, but there was a dark mockery in his voice.

“Mhm,” she murmured huskily, her hands splayed across his back. “Well, I _did_ show you my secret lair.” Her eyes lit up with devilish glee, “And at this rate you might even have enough points by morning for me share my cordials.”

“I don’t desire your cloying sweets,” he growled, arching her a little higher so that he could slide deeper into her. “Your sweet body is all the reward I need. To see your legs splayed open wide for me, to hear your moaning gasps as I taste your flesh, to feel you tremble under my fingers - this is far greater than any other reward you would give to me.”

Her hands clutched at his back and her thoughts fled under the spell of his words and the feel of him filling her over and over again. _Enough talk_ , she thought hazily, and leaned up long enough to capture his lips with hers again.

As they kissed, Loki realized he was being unusually attentive to her needs. _Was it because she does not pity me?_ he wondered as he licked and nipped his way down to her breasts. It was an oddity for him to be concerned with another, and the thought remained tucked in the back of his mind as he continued to wring pleasure from her body.

When ecstasy had finally given way to exhaustion and Zoe had rolled herself up in silver _karak_ furs, he had the opportunity to think about her and his new awareness. It could be as simple as repaying her kindness to him, but Loki didn’t think that was so. It seemed too easy to say, “ _As was done to me, I repaid in kind._ ” This was different; _she_ was different. He brushed her pale hair behind her ear, watching her sleep and pondering.

When he finally curled around her and followed her into slumber he still had no answer, but that lack of knowledge didn’t bother him as much as it should have.


	45. Not A Spoon

The day was bright and warm, with the promise that it would become hot later. “Good morning!” Thor’s bellow rang out over the tents, rousing everyone while the dew still clung to the grasses. “It is time to be up! The food to break our nightly fast is ready!”

“So did Zoe not come back?” Emma asked in the women’s tent as she spied the empty, untouched bed. They’d agreed that Natasha would go look for her, and Emma had fallen asleep before they’d returned, or so she’d assumed. “Did you not find her?”

“Oh, I found her,” Natasha said darkly as she pulled on her boots. “But once I saw where she was and heard what she was doing, I just left it. There are some things I simply don’t need to see.”

Emma frowned in concern, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I see... Well, nothing we can do about it, I suppose, except hope that Thor's faith in his brother is justified. Falling for someone who's kind of a jerk is one thing. Falling for someone who's capable of planet-wide domination and enslavement is another."

The former assassin grunted her assent and held the tent flap open for Emma. The smell of breakfast, pig and fresh bread from the smell of it, wafted in and the two set off in search of the source.

“Nng,” Zoe said brilliantly as Thor’s booming voice pulled her from the warm cocoon of slumber. She felt her pillow move and started, blinking rapidly to clear her sleep-fogged mind. She buried her face in Loki’s chest once she’d processed what was going on and groaned again. “Can I murder your brother? Just a little bit? Somewhere in the voicebox region?”

“I will not stop you,” he mumbled, his cold hand slipping under the warm fur to stroke her side. “I thought you would have gone back to your own bed in the night.”

She shivered pleasantly at the touch and propped her chin on his chest to look up him. “Did you want me to?”

“I didn’t have an opinion on it.” The sleepiness was fading from his eyes, replaced with rising lust. His hand moved with more purpose under the furs, tracing sensitive scars before settling on her breast. “I thought that was what unmarried women did in the night.”

“Well, some do,” she shrugged, unconcerned, “if they don’t want to share the bed or have somewhere to be early the next morning or don’t want people to know they’re sleeping with whomever they’re sleeping with.” She began to mirror his own actions, tracing feather-light touches across his chest and hips. “Personally, I like an already warm bed. And cuddling. And early morning sex. Probably. I haven’t actually gotten to _do_ that yet.”

“I see your point,” Loki said wisely, rolling smoothly on top of her. With that, he introduced them both to the last item on her list. They were by far the last ones to step out of their tent.

They came face-to-face with Thor, who was inches away from going into the tent to see what had kept his brother. “Loki, Zoe - good morning,” he said, blinking and nonplussed.

Zoe bit her lip to keep from laughing at the befuddled consternation on the thunder god’s face. She squeezed Loki’s hand and smiled at the elder prince. “Good morning, Thor. I’ll see you both at breakfast; I need to go get changed first.” The human woman sauntered off, feeling only a small pang of guilt at abandoning Loki to his brother.

“Loki, did you-?” Thor couldn’t bring himself to finish asking the question.

“Did I find a companion to spend the evening with? Yes.” Loki turned and headed for the hall, where the smell of cooked pig was filling the morning air.

Thor caught him by the arm and spun him around, his face grave and angry. “Did you dishonor Zoe Satelle?”

“Thoroughly, repeatedly, and at her eager insistence.” Loki pulled his arm away. “She’s not Asgardian, brother. She doesn’t need a ceremony and a key to engage in intercourse.”

“She is not but _you_ are! How could you behave so basely towards her?” the older brother snarled.

“I am not Asgardian, either, remember?” Loki stared at him, anger finally showing in his face. “I was found on the ice, abandoned and unwanted.”

“But not unloved. Not by me, and not by Mother.” Thor stepped back, shaking his head. “I will not turn a discussion of your poor behavior toward the Lady Zoe into more arguments about how we never really loved you. I have protested my love for you, over and over, brother. If you do not understand it, then at least stop using it as a weapon in other battles.” He stalked away, leaving Loki scowling and silent in his wake.

Zoe emerged from the women's tent a few minutes later in fresh clothes; she frowned at Loki’s stormy expression. “Everything okay?”

“Of course. I was waiting for you.” He fell into step next to her, feeling strange. He’d never had a bond like this with a mortal before - Gamora hardly counted, as what had passed between them was something wholly different. “I thought you might not want to enter alone.”

Her eyes lit up with her smile and she slipped her hand into his again. “By all means, lead on.”

The interior of the room was lit by candles and lanterns again, and the table was laden with a cooked pig, an iron pot of some kind of oatmeal or porridge, and a clay crock of apples. The lip of the crock looked as though it had been sealed for a while, and the sliced fruit had been simmered in mead and other spices until the apples were sweet and tender.

Everyone else was already sitting down and eating, save Thor who was oddly absent for being the one to call everyone to breakfast. Those in the large tent glanced up at Loki and Zoe as they entered, and several eyebrows rose in speculation at the sight of them holding hands.

“Ugh, you humies,” Rocket growled, wrinkling his snout as the couple walked past him. “You and your secretions. Some of us have working noses, you know.”

Zoe shrugged at the sentient racoon and glibly responded, “Sucks to be you, I guess.”

Peter’s eyebrows rose and he glanced over his spoon of breakfast gruel to Gamora, who was ignoring all of them. “So, uh, you two?” he asked the new couple. “You uh . . .” His voice trailed off as he finished with a vaguely lewd gesture with his spoon.

“No, Star-Lord, I did not use a spoon,” Loki informed him icily and led a giggling Zoe to their seats.

~  *  ~  *  ~

Those staying behind to spar gathered by their tents after breakfast, and Thor led them several miles from the village. The land he chose had strange pits and scarred trees; it was an old battlefield. An imprint from the Bifrost remained.

“Here we will test our might.” Thor’s voice boomed out over the open field and he took his cloak off in a dramatic sweep, setting it over a shattered log. “Drax, I will spar with you.”

“Spar?” The red-skinned alien asked suspiciously.

Thor tilted his head. “Practice fighting.”

Drax frowned in confusion. “How do you practice fighting?”

“Emma, come and spar with me.” The Asgardian looked somewhat frustrated and they’d barely started. “Let us show the Destroyer how it is done.”

She nodded, doing her best not to look nervous at the idea of sparring with the blonde Viking. “No problem, Thor.” She took up a defensive position opposite of him, drawing in a deep breath. Her eyes tracked the hammer-wielding warrior, waiting for him to make the first move.

Thor grinned at her, and she smiled back nervously. He took a step towards her, and her hand came up in the same gesture she’d made towards Gamora the day before. This time, though, nothing happened. Thor continued his charge towards her, and for a moment Emma looked startled. She threw up her other hand, looking for all the world as if she were trying to hold back an invisible wall. At the last moment she gave up, dropping and rolling out of the way of the Asgardian’s hammer swing. She sprung to her feet as Thor turned around, forced to reevaluate her entire fighting strategy against the powerful warrior.

He grinned wider and Emma suddenly realized he had been wanting to do this for a while. “My armor is not made of metal,” he told her boisterously. “And Mjolnir is above the sway of simple magnetism.” He tossed the hammer in an easy, slow swing, heading for her head. She dodged it easily but forgot it would return. As it came back, Mjolnir brushed by her so closely its wind drag pulled at her hair.

“That is sparring, Drax,” Thor said patiently as he caught the hammer. “Fighting without intent to hurt.”

“Or to win.” Now it was the off-worlder who looked confused. “How do you win battles if you don’t try?”

“Drax, we’ve talked about this.” The level of frustration in Peter’s voice boded poorly for Thor’s future attempts. “It’s fighting you do among people you trust, to get better at combat.”

“You get better at fighting by fighting,” Drax insisted. Peter threw up his hands in despair.

Emma, meanwhile, was buying herself time until she could figure out a more offensive approach. After the hammer dodge she’d pulled out her metal rods. Though not made of an alloy nearly as strong as Mjolnir most certainly was, she was finding moderate success warding off Thor’s blows by using the staves together. Though they wouldn’t have held up to any direct impact from the hammer, she was successfully catching the hammer by crossing the thin metal weapons and catching it at the hilt, deflecting it in mid-strike over and over.

“You’ve been practicing,” he told her after a few minutes. “You’ve gotten stronger.”

“Not really,” she replied wryly. “I’ve never fought you with the hammer before. Maybe abject terror gives me an edge.” Realizing she was being backed towards a tree, she shot up into the air and flipped around, landing behind him. It wasn’t a pure leap like Gamora or Natasha would’ve been able to do - Emma used her abilities to clear the godling’s reach, touching the ground so softly it was like she’d floated down. She swung the staff towards him as she landed, hoping to get at least one hit in before he had a chance to react.

He was too fast. He spun and grabbed the staff before it impacted, using her grip on it to his advantage, pulling her in closer to close the gap she’d been using as a defensive space. Her long hours of martial arts kicked in and she slammed her elbow into his chest.

The Asgardian grunted and a flicker of pain crossed his face. “Very good,” he told her with a grin as he released her and stepped back. “Your hits have great power.”

She stepped back as well, looking vaguely startled. “You felt that?”

“Yes, of course.” He frowned slightly at her. “Should I not?”

“Have you ever before?” she countered, still looking a bit perplexed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I paid attention and ate my Wheaties and all, and I know it’s been awhile since we fought. But the only time I’ve ever seen you flinch is when Tony hits you in his Iron Man suit, or when Steve would--” She stopped, trailing off for a moment before clearing her throat. “It just seemed strange. Have you ever sparred with Natasha?”

“No, the opportunity has never presented itself for such. It would be an interesting combat, the Black Widow is very fast, and quite resourceful,” Thor replied.

“Yes, she is.” Emma was quiet for a moment then shook her head, murmuring. “It’s probably nothing.” She glanced back at Thor and smiled, then turned to Drax. “Anyway, there’s a couple reasons to spar. One of the points of sparring is to get used to fighting a different way, or with new people, while endangering each other as little as possible. The other reason is to find out if you’re capable of doing something, if you need more practice, or if you’re just completely not capable of it at all. For instance,” she continued as she pulled out one of her metal rods, extending it to it’s full length. Then she tossed it at Thor, who caught it single-handedly. “I need to find out if I’m going to be capable of taking the staff away from Sif. I’ve lifted and pulled and manipulated metal objects quite a bit, but I’ve never tried to take one away from someone of Thor’s strength. Let’s see if I’m capable.”

She turned to Thor and nodded at him, indicating that she was ready. The Asgardian warrior lifted the staff and held it casually in his hands, nodding to Emma in return. She closed her eyes and drew in a breath, then she lifted a hand, reaching out to grab the staff with her abilities and pull it to her. Everyone watched in tense silence for a moment as the staff shifted almost imperceptibly in Thor’s grasp. His hands tightened on the metal rod in response, the difference between barely trying and not trying at all. After that there was several moments of nothing before Emma’s hand dropped and she staggered backwards a step.

“I guess not,” she commented wearily, offering a reluctant smile. “At least, not without some practice. We’ll have to keep trying.”

He nodded to her, then motioned to the watching group. “Zoe Satelle, stand forward.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!


	46. Safe

Zoe stepped away from the group of onlookers nervously. She’d been training with Natasha and Loki on her combat skills and Verun with her telekinetic abilities, but this was _Thor_. She’d heard enough stories by now to be just the teeniest bit worried that he might smash her like a very very small bug.

To her relief, he set aside Mjolnir, though that comfort was short-lived when she remembered he could call it to him. The godling walked toward her, his hands coming up in a defensive guard. “Try and hit me,” he told her, looking larger than he had just a few minutes ago.

"Uh, with my hands or telekinetically?" she asked, falling into the 'ready' stance Natasha had been drilling into her for weeks now.

“As you prefer,” he said with a grin, “though I will want to see how you do with both.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, focusing her mind as Verun had taught her. Traitorously, her brain kept wandering back over the previous night, flashing memories across her inner eye that were less than helpful in combat training. Her cheeks pinked and sternly thought to herself, _Focus_ , _Zoe_. _This is to protect Loki and Earth and **everyone**. Sexy fun times can't happen if we're all dead or slaves of Thanos_. She felt her mind settle, thoughts and power sliding into a new synchronicity with her desire to protect those she cared for.

Thor blinked in surprise at the first phantom blow; it was light and awkwardly aimed at his side but he’d not had any warning of it. Zoe was still standing across from him looking like she waiting for him to make the first move. The second blow was more of push, but better aimed. His right shoulder rocked back some under the pressure and he had to adjust his balance to keep from stepping back.

“Very good,” he encouraged, setting his heels. “Push me.” This time, her force built steadily on his chest but it was easy for him to deny it. She came close to success when she drew back her power and shoved it at him sharply, but if he was braced for it, she couldn’t move him. “Now, I’m going to rush you. Try to stop me from touching you.”

He looked even scarier as he lowered his head and ran toward her. She gaped at him, panic rushing through at the thought of becoming a Thor-smushed pancake. Her power coiled in her and the lashed out, sending a wave of force like an explosion across the practice area. Everyone in the area was knocked back or off their feet; Thor’s bullrush was deflected as he went spinning to the side and slammed into the ground. Zoe put her hands to her head, wincing in pain. “Guh, dammit! Sorry!”

“No,” he grunted, climbing to his feet and dusting himself off. Around the area, the others were doing the same, and the godling did a quick head-count to ensure everyone was nominally well. “That’s what we need to know. Not only that you can do that, but that it will affect all of us. Could you do it once more, or did the effort take your full reserves?”

She shook her head and then winced again. “Energy isn’t the problem. I didn’t do that _on purpose_ ,” she growled, frustrated with herself. “And afterwards I have a splitting headache, so even though I have the energy to do more, it’s really hard to concentrate.”

Thor nodded. “So now we know that you need to work on control. I believe that would be Verun’s area.”

“So um . . . what was that?” Peter stepped forward, frowning.

Zoe flashed him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I, uh, have telekinesis. It started up a few years ago, but I haven’t had a chance to really get control of it. When I panic. . .” she gestured to the people climbing to their feet.

“Mental powers are very dangerous,” Rocket noted as he crossed his arms. He hadn’t forgotten the experiments he’d seen during his early days of life. “Sure you’re safe, girl?”

“No,” she replied grimly, “I’m _not_ safe. HYDRA made that pretty clear when they were scrambling my brains for their sadistic murder experiments.” She shrugged, knowing she wasn’t being very reassuring, but he had asked and she had the habit of giving truthful answers. “Verun and I have been working on my control and I’m getting better, but if something scares me enough, I still go all psychic boom on the area.”

“Okay,” Rocket said as if that was nothing abnormal. He gazed critically into the distance, gauging how far her effect had reached. “So, your range is . . . a hundred feet?”

“I’ve only done it twice, but yeah, that seems about right. At least, after that far the wave isn’t knocking anyone down.” She massaged her temples, trying to get the headache to ease up. “I think...I think if I could figure out how to do it on purpose, I could go farther, but that _would_ be very tiring.”

“If you could control it, you could likely affect a _smaller_ area too, or even just one person.” Gamora had moved closer, her slim body still lethal and graceful. “It would be a powerful weapon. Can you use your power again, right now? I have an idea for a control exercise that might help you.”

Thor beamed at the sight of Gamora offering to help. Sighing, Zoe said, “Yeah, my head hurts but I can do it.”

Soon, Groot was collecting rocks for her, which Zoe was tossing into the air. Her objective was to keep them in motion and avoid them being shot by either Peter or Rocket. Thor and Emma were watching out of range of the rock shrapnel, while Gamora stood next to Zoe. The young telekinetic was in the middle dodging the raccoon’s blasts, grinning as his muttered curses of irritation became louder.

“Is he treating you well?” Gamora asked suddenly.

She blinked, her concentration slipping for a moment. She ignored the question long enough get control of all the rocks again and start sending them into complex patterns in the air. Weirdly that was easier than trying to just keep them moving randomly; her mind could settle on the pattern, even a very intricate one, and spend less time paying attention to the movement of the rocks. “Who? Loki?” she finally asked, adjusting the patterns as the gun-wielding Guardians began to anticipate where the rocks would be.

“Yes. I am familiar with him, and I wanted to be sure he’s treating you properly.” The green-skinned woman was sincere in her worries. She had her own history with the arrogant prince and she wanted to be sure the young human was not being hurt in any way.

“That’s a nice switch,” Zoe said, quirking her lips into a smile. At Gamora’s questioning look, she elaborated, “Pretty much everyone else has been trying to keep the two of us apart as much as possible and convince me that Loki could give the Devil lessons on being evil. It’s just nice to have someone checking in on the situation because of concern, but not trying to tell us what to do or feel. And yeah, he’s been great. He can be an ass some of the time, and he’s got most everyone around him so trained to treat him like a bratty toddler they don’t want to set off, but I’m working on helping him with that.” She glanced at the green-skinned woman, her smile softening into something intensely sincere. “Oh, and thanks. For being there for him. Before. I know what it’s like to be alone in a situation like that and how much it would mean to have someone to take comfort with-”

“Ow, hey! Watch it!” Rocket groused when one of the rocks slipped from her control and hit his shoulder when it dropped.

Zoe flushed and turned back to the practice. “Dammit. Sorry Rocket! Let’s talk later, Gamora, if you want. This is exercise is...fun, but hard to focus on anything else.”

 “Of course. I am concerned for you and if he does change his behavior and starts hurting you, in _any_ way, then you have me ready to help you.” Gamora squeezed her arm and stepped away.

“And you can cry on my shoulder, you know, if you need,” Peter offered from his firing position and Gamora rolled her eyes as she passed him.

“Don’t look at me. I hate all you humies,” Rocket snorted.

“Awww, and I was gonna bake you cookies for dropping a rock on you,” Zoe mock-pouted at the tempestuous creature’s declaration.

The raccoon bared his teeth. “I don’t even like cookies!”

“I am Groot!”

“Yeah, yeah, tell them _all_ my secrets, ya punk.” Rocket rolled his eyes.

Zoe giggled at the exchange, then gave Groot a considering look. Splitting her attention between the rocks and her telepathy, she very cautiously reached out the plantman’s mental presence. _This is Zoe. Can you hear/understand me?_

Gentle black eyes turned to her, a sweet smile crossing the tree’s face. “I am Groot,” he said, but the images that were coming over the mental link were wordless. Plants bloomed and flourished on a rock; seeds sprouted in complex patterns. It was language, Zoe could sense that much, but she had no idea what it meant.

She blinked and smiled, her eyes shining with wonder at the gentle intricacies of Groot’s thoughts. “Whoa. That’s...amazing. Maybe Verun can figure out what it means and how to translate.” A sharp pain stabbed through her temple and the stones tumbled from the sky in erratic crashes. She cupped her forehead in her her hands and declared, “That’s it. I’m done for the day. My brain is staging a revolt. Please tell me the Vanir have aspirin. Or at least some really good alcohol. Ow...”

Thor sought out one one of the village children - a dozen or so had snuck over to the valley to see what the strangers were up to - and sent them back to the village for a tea to help Zoe’s headache. In the meantime, he called each of the Guardians out on the field individually to assess their combat prowess. They were new allies, always welcome in a war, and learning their strengths and weaknesses would allow him to place them most effectively in the upcoming battles. The routine was familiar and reminded the Asgardian prince of simpler times in his life, happy times when his family had been whole and it was never a friend he faced across the field. He would not give up his life on Midgard, his life with Jane, for anything, but sometimes he ached for those earlier days.

They paused for lunch when the tea arrived, then went back at it again. Emma found herself partnered with Gamora.

“I am curious,” the green-skinned alien said easily as they practiced pure hand-to-hand. “Is there anything that stops your powers? Have you tested that?”

“So far the only thing that’s worked is an electromagnetic pulse,” she responded, barely dodging a couple of the alien woman’s swift strikes. “Tony used one to shut them down once. It didn’t last long, though.”

“We should test you further,” Gamora said with an uncomfortable intensity, increasing her speed. After that, Emma struggled to stay ahead of her without using her powers.

Zoe in turn was approached by Bucky. “Since your brain is tired, I thought I’d teach you how to fall.”

She finished the last dregs of the tea, a little sad it was gone now; it had tasted good, just a little sweet and very earthy. Her headache was almost gone and she thought, _Whatever those herbs are, we need to take them back to Earth and put a whole bunch of pharmaceutical companies out of business._  “I had a migraine and you want to drop me on my head a bunch?” she teased the supersoldier goodnaturedly.

A ghost of smile appeared on his weathered features. “You _had_ a headache, so you’re fine now,” he quipped back.

She gave a melodramatic sigh, then laughed and stood up from where she’d been watching the others spar. “Slave driver. You’re all ‘gotta teach you how not to die’ as if we’re in the middle of some grand intergalactic plot of a madman trying to become a god and take over the universe.”

He chuckled and agreed, “Totally preposterous. Would never happen. Now get your butt out there, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!!


	47. Oddefn Me'Dinea

To those approaching, the Great Archives appeared to rise out of a plain without anything around them. They stood on low, green hills, but the structure dwarfed the geography. Steep steps led to a massive wooden door, set in an imposing stone wall. Long scraps of gold cloth hung from the top of the wall, all bearing the seal of the royal house of Asgard. They looked like mere ribbons when first seen, but they were as wide as a man was tall.

“Wow, and I thought the Chinese were ostentatious,” Tony remarked as they reached the steps, craning his neck back to look up.

“Try not to embarrass me, mortal,” Loki sneered as they mounted the stone steps of the Great Archives of Vanaheim.

“I am very multicultural,” Tony shot back, scowling at the jotun. “Of the two of us, I bet I’m the better behaved.”

Loki’s green eyes narrowed. “Care to take a wager?”

“No, I’m behaving myself.” Tony smirked at his hated companion.

Walking five or so steps ahead of them, Natasha glanced back at them before murmuring to Verun, “Do you want to try to ditch them inside?” When the Vanir woman frowned, the Avenger said, “That means to lose them before we decide to kill them to save our sanity.”

Verun chuckled softly. “I can always knock them out if we need peace and quiet.”

“And I’m a mother, so I guess I can handle some immaturity - for a time,” the assassin sighed. The two women walked in silence for a moment before Natasha said, “So any comment on the new development?”

The taller woman frowned irritably. “I will give Loki the benefit of believing that his intentions are pure, even if his actions were not.”

Casually, the red-headed woman asked, “And if his motives aren’t pure?”

“Then he will find out why Frigg’s Vanir magic was feared by the Aesir.” She shrugged, some of the anger from her last comment disappeared. “I have already given him similar warning. Were Zoe not so fond of him, I would say something now, but it is her choice as much as his.”

“Is it her choice?” Natasha asked intently.

“So far.” Verun had checked this morning.

The men caught up with them at the line for the doors. A smaller entrance was set in the larger one, and Vanir were walking in and out of it in steady streams. Some of the people were staring at Loki, recognizing the prince, but no one had the temerity to approach him.

“So what will you be doing while we research?” Tony asked his fellow Avenger.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and said with only a hint of sarcasm, “I’ll be researching.” At his confused frown, she said, “Tony, I’m a spy. I’ve done research for each of my covers, including yours. Do you want me to tell you your social?”

“Point taken.” Tony held up his hands in mock-surrender. “Though it's unfair to jump me for not knowing that.”

“Except even Thor figured out that to be a good spy, I had to know my targets, and that is absolutely pertinent to this mission.” She studied him for a second, wondering if he was always this clueless. _Did I just never notice?_ “Did you really think that all I can do is look pretty and fight well?”

“No, but I didn’t know that Thor did,” Tony grumbled, not liking to be wrong, particularly in front of Loki. He frowned at Natasha, wondering what he’d done to piss her off. When he stopped to think about it, he realized she’d been on his case for a couple of weeks now. _Great, one more problem to deal with before it bites me in the ass._

At the doors, they were stopped by a woman who took their names, realm of residence, and purpose for visiting. She wrote it all down in a massive ledger and waved them through the door. “Why do they take that information?” Natasha asked when they were through.

“All knowledge is worth having, even who is seeking what knowledge,” Verun said as they cleared the antechamber and stood in the library.

“Okay, I am impressed,” Natasha said in surprise when she looked up. The interior was one room, with thick pillars to support the wooden roof. It’s three levels were open to the entrance, with long, curving staircases stretching between the floors. Book shelves and scroll holders were everywhere: built into pillars, forming lines down the floors, lining the stairs, and along all the walls. Further, books were stacked in piles on the table.

“I’m horrified!” Tony growled. “How are we going to find the Annals of Kronos?”

Verun smiled and pointed down one of the rows. “I know where they are. Information about the Titans are down here.”

“Lead on,” Loki waved to her. “While you do that, I will research Thanos.”

“No way am I letting you out of my sight.” Tony spun on him.

“Then come with me, mortal.” He glanced at Verun. “You and Natasha are more than qualified to find the information on the Gems. We will face Thanos, and we should have all the knowledge about him at hand.”

“Very well.” Verun didn’t feel like arguing, especially not with Tony watching the God of Mischief closely and her ability to monitor her brother at a distance. “Good hunting.”

“Good hunting to you as well, sister.” His words were kind but his snide tone was not.

“So, I’m guessing you wish you were still an only child,” Natasha observed as the two women watched the men walk away.

“I could be again, if I wished,” the Vanir smiled wryly as she spoke.

“So what do these annals look like?” Natasha asked.

“Oh, they’re right here,” Verun said, pointing to a book case of black-bound books.

“Oh.” The assassin stared for a moment, mentally calculating that there were likely three dozen similar books on the shelf. “Do we know which one the information is in?”

“No,” the other woman said softly.

“Right. You take number one, I’ll take number two.” They each grabbed a book and dug into the tomes.

Loki led Tony down another aisle. “Here is the section on Thanos,” he said, touching a shelf stacked with books.

“Okay,” the inventor said, taking the first one down and opening it eagerly. He’d heard about Asgardian books from Jane, and expected Vanir books to be similar. Instead, it was just a book, bound in leather and wood with thick paper. _Real parchment,_ he realized the second he touched the page and felt the weight and texture of it. _This sheet had once been alive._

Loki had grabbed another and was starting to read it. “So a question,” Tony said, taking a seat on the floor and putting the heavy book on his crossed legs. “Why is Vanir tech so far below Asgardian?”

“It’s different,” Loki said absently, already half-lost in the book and its knowledge. As always, it calmed him, drawing him away from the troubles and pains of his life. “Their focus on magic is much purer than Asgard’s.”

“But if Vanaheim is a vassal state of Asgard, why isn’t more Asgard tech here?” Tony was curious about this place, but he was more than a little disappointed that he hadn’t had a chance to study the other realm’s devices.

“Does your kingdom always share your technology with your vassal states?” Loki finally looked up at him, frowning a little.

“We don’t have a kingdom, or vassal states,” Tony pointed out, vaguely surprised that they were having a conversation. “Puerto Rico is a territory, and we’re a democracy, mostly. I know that the PR is not in the stone age, compared to the other islands.”

“Hmm.” Loki’s grunt was one of acknowledgement but disinterest, and he dropped his attention back to his book.

“So nice talking to you,” Tony snarked and took a look in his book. “Another question. Why is this in English?”

“It isn’t. It’s in the all-language, the same one I’m speaking to you.” Loki glanced up at him scornfully. “Shall we continue to research?”

“Fine,” Tony shoved the book back into place, “but I’ll leave reading bedtime monster stories to you. I’m going to go dig around some on Earth’s prodigal son.” With that he headed back towards the front of the Archive in search of one of the librarians. _Or is it archivists? It’s probably some fancy Vaniheim word that sounds just like English._

Several hours later, Verun sat up a little straighter, her expression losing some of its tension. “Natasha, I have found mention of the Gems.”

The assassin rubbed her eyes and extracted herself from behind a stack of books. “Is it what we need to know?”

“Yes, it tells of where Kronos left all the Gems.” Verun tilted her head as she read, “He left the Aether with the Dark Elves, the Power Gem with the Mikolos - a now-dead race - and the Space Gem with King Bor of the Asgard, along with the Gauntlet. His brother Ouranos stole the Mind Gem, which Thanos took after killing Ouranos. Hmm.”

“What?” Natasha asked, resisting the urge to take the book from her.

“The Time Gem is locked in the unbreachable prison at the heart of Tartarus. The Soul Gem was sent into the least populated area of space on an unmanned ship.” Verun pulled her bag to her side and drew out a scroll. Unrolling it, she began to sketch the starmap in the book.

“Is that where it was sent?” Natasha unrolled the scroll further and began to draw the map of Tartarus.

“Perhaps. It was drawn by Nir, a mortal who served Kronos, and is her best recollection of the map she saw.” Verun’s lips drew into a dissatisfied line. “It is the lead we have, nonetheless.”

The women sketched in silence; when she was done, they rolled the scroll, put away their books, and went to find the men. Loki was where they expected, sitting in a chair reading one of the ancient books.

“We found what we need.” Verun announced as they approached him. “Are you ready? Where is Stark?”

“I am ready and Stark decided to investigate the Star-Lord and his group instead of learning of our ultimate enemy,” his usual sneer painted his words, but the barbs were hardly sharp. He would never admit that the Man of Iron was wise to think of looking into their newest cohorts while at the Archive; Tony’s ego was already near a match for his own. He slowly put the book back, his fingers lingering on the spine.

It took a librarian and two assistants to finally track Tony down. He was tucked into a mostly unused corner of the Archives; the hallways there were lined with small rooms equipped with monitors or holographic projectors. The sleek, sophisticated technology seemed anachronistic to the building, jarring discordantly with the smell of vellum and old ink. Tony was slouched in a comfortable chair in one of the rooms, a headset over his ears and the wallscreen running what appeared to street-side interviews on a highly industrialized world. The caption running across the ribbon at the was time and date stamped, followed by a short caption of ‘Peacekeeper Dey of Nova Corps, Xandar’.

Natasha put a hand on his shoulder and after he’d taken the headphones off, asked, “So?”

He shrugged. “It matches up. Oh, and Quill’s also a criminal. A thief and a mercenary, but I think that was pretty obvious. Still, remind me to lock up the silver when we get back home.”

The Black Widow rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Because the rest of us have such sterling pasts. Or, y’know, presents. You and Emma are the only _current_ fugitives, remember.”

He made a face and turned off the monitor, rising to join the others. “Thanks for reminding me that our senators are just as stupid and greedy as Hammer. They better not be rifling through my stuff at the Tower.”

They made sure to be out of sight of the steady stream of visitors to the Archive before Verun pulled out the Tesseract and transported them back to Hogun’s home village.

“You return!” Thor called as they appeared, waving them over to the fire everyone else was huddled around. Most of them were dusty; Thor and Drax both bore obvious bruises from the day’s exertions, but everyone seemed in a good mood despite a few well-earned bumps. “Come, sit and tell us what you have learned.”

Verun laid out the details quickly, holding up her scroll when she mentioned the two maps.

“So we need to get into the Tartarus prison or into space.” Thor looked pensive as they considered their options.

“I don’t know about the prison,” Tony said, “but we have a spaceship.”

Everyone looked at him in surprise. “We do?” Emma asked. “The _Maria_ was destroyed.”

Tony beamed at her. “I rebuilt it. Well, most of it.”

“How much most of it?” Rocket asked critically.

Tony looked up, reflexively turning to his absent A.I. “JARVIS-- oh, damn it. Uh, I’m guessing about thirty percent.”

“Thirty percent!” The raccoon snorted. “That’s not a ship, that’s a bulkhead.”

“Actually, it’s the computer core and the life support systems,” he replied haughtily.

“So how fast can Earth spaceships go?” Rocket asked, his tail swishing irritably.

“Most go twenty-eight thousand, but the _Maria_ could reach one-hundred fifty thousand klicks per hour.” Tony spoke with pride twinged with a hint of irritation; he seriously doubted that his ships could begin to compare with whatever technology these advanced space-farers had.

“What’s that in light speed?” Gamora asked, her eyes narrowing.

The billionaire’s lips pressed into a tight line before he admitted, “It’s about point zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-nine light speed.”

“So in a few thousand years, we can get to the point where Kronos started the ship. Frickin’ brilliant!” Rocket snarled, his claws curling up to pinch the air.

“No biggie. We’ll build you an M-ship engine.” Peter grinned proudly, and Tony barely restrained an outright glare at him. “They’re intergalactic engines, so they should do just fine.”

“What’s their speed?” Tony asked. “How do they work?”

“Who do I look like, Oddefn Me’Dinea?” Peter shrugged, casually dismissive of tech Tony would have killed to understand. “I didn’t invent the things, I just know how to build and maintain them.”

“Good. We won’t have to ask my father for help, then.” Thor smiled at their new companions, clapping Star-Lord on the shoulder and making the human wince. “Tomorrow we return to Sanctuary, but for now our hosts have prepared supper. Let us feast together as comrades in arms!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! :)


	48. Personal

A feast fit for princes had been laid out by their hosts in the communal tent and the entire village was gathered together to share it. Tony regaled the group with the heroic efforts of the research team and what they had uncovered, earning surprised laughter from the their Vanir hosts as he couched the day’s events as though they had been engaged in a life-and-battle with enemies such as Vague References, Contradictory Accounts, and worst of all: This Book Has No Index. By the time the Man of Iron had finished his recounting of their daring exploits, the mood was far too jovial for any serious, somber discussion - well, that, and half the village was now determined to compete for the title of evening’s best storyteller.

Emma tried to keep up, truly she did. But so many people talking all at once - telling jokes, heckling whoever’s turn it was to storytell, and even the occasionally sing-along from those already several pints into their cups - made her glasses a blur of colors and scrolling text. She was rubbing her eyes after the first thirty minutes and fighting off a migraine by the end of an hour. She slipped quietly outside, taking up a seat on one of the stone benches circling one of the fire pits a little ways away from the dining tent. Between the crackling flames and the warmth of the watered down Vanir mead she’d brought with her, it was quiet pleasant. She pulled off her glasses and massaged her exhausted eyes.

It was strange and frustrating to know that there were sounds happening around her, that this world wasn’t really the silent tomb it felt like. Of course, everything had felt like that since her eardrums had healed and the ringing had stopped. _I wonder if I’ll go mad from the quiet one of these days,_ she wondered. She felt guilty even as she thought it, reminding herself that some people had lived like this for their whole lives, or at least for a lot longer than a month. _Nonetheless,_ she found herself thinking, _it’s so hard to get used to. It feels so… lonely._

Unnoticed by Emma, the tent flap opened behind her and Peter stepped out. He and Loki had been sparring with words, but the comments were heading quickly towards heated and snide; he’d spotted the red-head Avenger making her exit and decided to extricate himself as well before he and the sharp-tongued Asgardian prince got into an actual argument. _And Gamora says I have no sense of propriety. At least, I think the word was propriety. Maybe it was property? Ah, whatever._ When he saw her sitting quietly on the stone bench by herself, he smiled.

“Hey,” he said amiably as he took a couple steps towards her. She didn’t answer him, and he saw her take another drink from her cup. “Hey, Emma,” he tried again, moving a little closer. She lowered the glass back down, staring into the fire without acknowledging him in the slightest, so he stepped right up next to her and leaned down, murmuring next to her ear. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Emma felt his breath on her ear and jumped, twisting around quickly and reaching for him as if to throw a punch. He blocked it quickly and jumped back, his hands moving up into a defensive position near his face. “Hey, hey, calm down! It’s just me!”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and an embarrassed flush blossomed across her cheeks. “Oh, Peter - I’m so sorry.” She saw him open his mouth and begin to speak and she shook her head, cutting him off abruptly. “Wait, wait - just a minute.”

She reached down and picked up the glasses from where she’d set them down, slipping them back on.Then she picked up her drink and turned back to him, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, go ahead. What were you saying?”

“Just saying hi, no big deal.” He sat down next to her, his hands folded around his own drink. “It’s kinda crazy in there, right?”

“Yeah, it’s been awhile since I’ve been around that many people at once, with everyone talking and laughing, having a good time.” she replied. “It’s a little…overwhelming, I guess.”

“I just picture them all naked, when that happens to me.” He grinned boyishly at her, then added, “I mean, it _can_ get you into a lot of trouble, if you don’t watch what you say or your, uh, visible reactions. But it can also put you at ease.”

She laughed a little, and shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I mean, I’ll keep that in mind. You know, for future reference. And at least I wouldn’t have to worry about any ‘visible reactions’. But it’s not anxiety, it’s just hard to follow all of it at the same time now. Ever since I was injured.”

He glanced at her, his eyes roaming over her in a not-completely innocent way. “You were hurt? You look fine now.” It was also an invitation to tell him about it, if she wanted.

She caught his glance, and her lips curved up a little bit at the corners in return. “Yeah. It’s not obvious or anything.” She studied him for a moment, then pulled off her glasses and held them out to him. “Go ahead, try them on.”

He took them carefully and put them on; after a moment, comprehension dawned. “Wow, these are pretty cool. I mean, I thought we’d have flying hoverboards for sure by now, but these aren’t bad.”

She studied his face carefully, trying her hardest to follow the words falling from his lips. Unfortunately it was an acquired skill that she hadn’t had time to pick up yet. She started to speak again, and he saw her words scrolling across his vision as they came out of her mouth. “They’re pretty nice, right? Tony made them for me. But it’s hard to follow so many conversations on the screen. I lost my hearing last month when I was hit by a weaponized sonic blast.”

“Huh, oh, here.” He handed them back to her and waited until they were on. “I was just saying they were pretty cool. The old guy made them?”

“The old guy?” Emma blinked, looking startled for a moment. She’d never even thought of the age difference between Tony and herself before, though now it dawned on her that there was one. He was a peer, a highly intelligent and incredibly good-looking one at that. _He sure didn’t seem old when he was fucking you senseless,_ she caught herself thinking. Her cheeks flushed slightly. “You mean Tony? I wouldn’t call him _old_.”

“I would.” Whether or not this was true seemed to be a matter of opinion, and Peter had his. “I mean, he could be my _father_. I guess if you work with him all the time, it’d be less obvious - daily exposure and all that.” He paused and sighed. “See, usually, this is where I ask about your favorite music but that seems insensitive. So, I think I’ll go with - is this your first time offworld?”

She hesitated for a moment, as if considering her answer. “No. Yes. I mean… it depends on your definition, I suppose.” She laughed at his confused expression. “I’ve been in space before. But I never made it to another planet. I was part of a mission Tony put together to search for additional options, if it came to that.”

“Cool. I can tell you territory is pretty well staked up there.” He jerked his thumb at the stars above them. “All the good stuff is taken. Some people don’t even _have_ planets anymore, like the outlaws that raised me. The Ravagers.”

“That figures.” She sighed, and took another sip of her drink. “I’d love to hear about some of what you’ve seen, and the places you’ve been. I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of any alien races that infect people with nanites or anything like that, have you? To control them?”

Peter frowned thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of planets and people using nanites, but none that use them to control people. So this is the obvious question, but why do you ask?”

“Because something attacked our ship. They killed all of my crewmates; I was the only one who survived it.” She drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I had no control over my actions after that. I was a killing machine. Tony captured me, brought me back to his labs, and was able to partially disable them. Enough for me to gain control over my thoughts and actions again, anyway. It took… a little while. But I still have control over magnetic fields, it’s where my abilities come from.”

“Wow, that shoots my ‘so my dad isn’t human’ story right out of the water,” Peter said, his eyebrows rising. “I’d ask Gamora, since Thanos has used her to kill more people than I’ve ever met. Don’t hold it against her - she had no choice.”

She nodded, her expression sympathetic. “I can definitely understand that. And thank you, I will.” She looked down at her drink for awhile lost in her memories. The firelight painted her profile in a warm glow, giving her a somber beauty that kept even Peter quiet for several minutes. After a time she glanced back up at him with an interested expression. “So you’re only half-human?” she asked. “How did that happen?”

“Well, at some point, my mother had sex with an alien.” At Emma’s exasperated glare, he exclaimed, “That’s all I know! My mom was always talking about my dad being an angel, and that I was her Star-Lord, but if she told me anything more than that, I wrote her off because all the other adults in my life thought she was nuts.”

“So that’s where you got the name?” her expression softened and she smiled at him. “That’s… really sweet. Alright, Star-Lord, tell me some more about what’s out there. I’m dying to know.”

Grinning, Peter started to tell her about all the things he’d seen, his hands moving with his words. A little while later, Tony and Thor stepped out of the meeting hall. “So what are you going to do about it?” Tony asked the bigger man.

“I do not know,” the Asgardian sighed, glancing up at the stars. “If I confront my brother about his actions, it will likely only drive him to greater depravity.”

“Look, I get it. I don’t like it either but that’s just because I see a young woman making a bad choice in bed partners,” the billionaire said, shrugging slightly. “He’s violating Asgardian norms but unless they slipped a goat in there last night, he hasn’t done anything that violates _our_ norms. Just Zoe. And trust me, if you tell her that she can’t have her chosen dick, you might as well plan the wedding now.” He stopped as he caught sight of Emma and Peter sharing a log and talking in front of the fire. Frowning, he muttered, “Huh, wonder what they’re doing.”

“The wedding should have happened _first_ ,” Thor muttered darkly. He pulled his attention over to where Tony was looking, nodding appreciatively at the sight. “It is good for the Guardians to forge personal ties with us as individuals.”

“I guess,” Tony said with a scowl. “Just so long as these ties don’t get _too_ personal.”

There was movement behind them and Hogan stepped out of the dining tent. “Thor, I leave for Asgard now. Is there a message other than news of these events you would have me give the AllFather?”

The blond godling hesitated, torn between damaging Zoe’s reputation among the Aesir and his sense of responsibility to tell his father that Loki had taken a mortal lover. Eventually he shook his head and held out his hand, “No, Hogun. That will be all for now. My thanks for acting as our messenger and taking up Sif’s duties until she can be rendered whole again and returned to Asgard. You are a true friend and an honorable warrior.”

Hogan took Thor’s arm in a warrior’s grip and nodded. If he knew of Loki’s indiscretion or had an opinion on it, as usual he kept it to himself. “I learned such at your side, my friend,” he said with humble dignity.  With that, the taciturn Vanir stepped out into the central clearing of the village and called for Heimdall. A moment later the night was lit up with a flash of rainbow light, and then he was gone.


	49. Language Barriers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late posting! I just got back from GenCon and I left my mouse in the hotel room. A new mouse has been acquired and here's your chapter. Please comment!

“I can do something with this,” Peter said as he stared up at the _Maria Beta_ , but there was a hint of doubt in his tone. His voice echoed in the massive ship bay that housed the wreck.

“I know it’s not the _Enterprise_ ,” Tony growled, “but it’s gone further from Earth than any other ship.” Peter looked sideways at him and the billionaire snarled, “It’s gone further than any other ship built on Earth.”

“Throttle down, man, I said it’d work.” Peter held a tablet out to the other man. The inventor glanced hopefully at Emma, who rolled her eyes at him.

“Really?” she responded drily, arching a brow. Tony stared back patiently, and after several moments Emma gave an exasperated sigh, then took the tablet from the Star-Lord and began to study it. Tony stepped up and glanced at it over her shoulder while the half-human Guardian studied the _Maria-B_ more closely. It was roughly plane-shaped but the Stark influence was clear in the swept-back wings and the sleek angles from nose to tail.

He reached out and turned off the illusionary shell. The true form of the _Maria_ was revealed: a burnt-out hulk that only held echoes of her original form. There had been work done on it, including a new, shiny engine. Peter frowned when he saw Emma glance at it and briefly shiver. He frowned harder when he caught the concerned look that Tony gave her, wondering what their deal was. He didn’t like to try poaching on taken women but he hadn’t seen any sign she was with anyone. When they stood together like that, they had a kind of vibe that danced between them. _I bet they’ve totally knocked boots._

“So, aside from not knowing what half of these materials are, or what these components are, this is great.” Tony tapped the screen a final time. “We’ve marked the things we’re going to need help with.”

“I want to bring the Asgardians into this,” Peter told him, taking the item back from Emma with a smile for her.

The older man scowled widely. “Well, you can bring in Point Break and Cruella, but leave Reindeer Games out of this.”

“Is someone gonna translate that out of Tonyese?” The Guardian grinned hopefully at the lone woman in their group.

“He means Thor, Verun, and Loki, in that order.” Emma shook her head at the billionaire, who ignored her silent criticism. As Peter reparsed Tony’s sentence, she added, “While I understand where your feelings are coming from, Tony, I think we should consider that Thor is an Asgardian warrior. I don’t know what he knows about building spaceships.”

“If he’s like the other Asgardian soldiers I know, it won’t be much.” Peter interrupted before Tony could respond. “Their magician-scientists-whatevers are the brain trusts in that race.”

“Which does mean involving Loki.” Tony’s face twisted into a sour grimace as if he’d bitten into something rotten. “I cannot tell you how much I don’t want him involved.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that feeling.” Peter frowned. “I’ve heard someone mention he’s not Boy Scout material?”

"That's an understatement," Tony snarled, his hands wrapping around a safety rail and gripping tight. "He is a would-be invader, an asshole, and a terrible dresser."

"And standing behind you." Loki's voice made all three of them turn. As Peter and Tony stared at him without speaking, Emma sighed softly and ran a hand across her face in frustration.

The jotun stood with his hands behind his back, an unamused expression on his face. "This asshole thought you might need some help."

"We’re going to ask Verun and Thor, as well," Peter said, attempting a smile. All the arguing made him nervous. It didn’t matter that his own team had fought as bad or worse than this before it had formed; Peter didn’t like this kind of infighting. Hell, he’d done what he could to prevent the proto-Guardians from bickering.

“Don’t bother.” Loki made a dismissive gesture that had Tony narrowing his eyes. “A Vanir sorceress would know only a touch more about shipcraft than an Asgardian Warrior.”

“You’re assuming a lot about a woman you barely know,” Tony snapped quickly. “You don’t know anything about her. And Thor’s smarter than you give him credit for.”

“I’m not speaking of his intelligence, as he doesn’t need my help to prove his lack there.” Loki smirked to himself at the dig on his brother’s mental prowess. “However, I know that while I was studying and learning useful skills, he was off killing this or that, slaying this magical beast or hunting that monster. His education has been rather one-note.”

“I’d still like to ask Verun and Thor anyway.” Peter smiled to take the mild rebuke from his tone. “What do you know about putting together a spaceship?”

“I made a small craft by hand when I was five hundred,” the jotun said, pride ringing in his voice.

 _“When I was five hundred?” Damn Asgardians and their stupid lifespans._ “Good.” Peter nodded and crossed his arms. “What kind of engine did you use? Did you make a successful launch with it?”

“It was an intergalactic engine, similar to what the Kree use in their ships, albeit smaller in scope.” Loki looked painfully smug as he added, “I used it on many flights to worlds other than Asgard.”

“That’s fantastic!” Emma exclaimed. Her expression had brightened a bit during the conversation; she was feeling a bit more hopeful at their chances knowing at least one of them had built something capable of doing what they needed from the ground up.

Tony looked less impressed at this news. “So where is it?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure you’d be flaunting that if it were still around. Did you blow it up?”

Loki gave him a withering glare. “Odin took it from me as punishment for daring to take Thor off-world. When he, Fandral, and Sif caused trouble at our destination, I lost my vessel.”

Tony leaned back slightly, his expression shifting into something more wary than angry. The billionaire remembered something similar happening to him: his father had once taken away Tony’s first car, though he’d be the first to admit, he’d deserved it. “Fine, you’re hired,” he said, grinning meanly at the irritation crossing the jotun’s face.

“So first step is getting the materials we need,” Peter said, attempting to keep the conversation focused on the ship and not their interpersonal problems. "How about we do this? I'll tell you what a material or component does, and you guys can think about substitutes we can use for it."

He got nods from all, and soon they were deep into the long list. When they reached weapons, Petet called Rocket into the group to consult. After a solid six hours, he was starting to believe that this was going to work.

“Vibramium could be used there instead of that calipok or whatever," Tony noted, rubbing his thumbs into the corners of his eyes. He hated showing the sign of stress, but not snapping at Loki was exhausting. “I can try to buy some but getting it out of Wakanda is not easy.”

“Then why even suggest it? ” Loki asked, his expression annoyed. “It is a waste of time and breath to bring it up."

"Because I have this thing called money which means I get to have things that are not easy to get." Tony shook his head as he added, “I know everything you ever wanted was handed to you but some of us know the value of hard work."

Loki seemed just as eager for the fight as Tony, and he rounded on the mortal. "Save your condescending platitudes. You know nothing of me or the hard work I've done."

"Right, I forgot, you were adopted into royalty. Poor you," Tony sneered.

"While you were born to all the wealth and privilege and not even the _expectation_ of responsibility," Loki snarled back. "And what did you do with that? Profited with it as a God of Death that never had the honor to step on the battlefield in person until you were forced to it."

“At least when I picked a battlefield, I didn’t try to invade an innocent world and then blame it on some alien.” Tony glared at the green-eyed jotun, his fury finally allowed to be free.

“Oh, shut it!” Emma snapped angrily, her voice rising higher than either of the two bickering men  as various metal tools and parts were suddenly knocked over onto the floor. Though she couldn’t hear the ensuing clang herself, she had felt the power lash out briefly and saw the loudness reflected in the brightness of her indicator lights and in the guys’ startled reactions. She flinched in the moment of silence that followed, but steeled herself and drew in a slow breath. “Both of you. I mean, unless you need this, I guess. I mean hell, maybe you two just need to get it out of your system.”

“Emma, what are you doing?” Peter tried to hiss it at her, though in the silence of her outburst it was still clearly heard by the other two angry men in the room.

She ignored his attempted interjection and walked straight up to Tony and Loki, placing her hands on her hips. Her voice came across as sardonic, but Tony wasn’t the least bit fooled. He could see the anger and frustration flashing in her eyes. “Maybe,” she continued, “instead of this constant bickering, we should just settle this once and for all. Tony, you go strap on a suit, and then Peter and I will just sit here and watch while you two throw around magic and missiles and clever quips at each other until one of you has proven which one hates the other one more, or who had the shittier childhood, or who has the bigger dick! You know, whatever it is you boys need to prove to one another!”

Peter made a noise that was somewhere between amused and horrified. Emma, however, had built up a fair amount of steam by this point and kept going, dropping the sarcasm completely. “And then, when you’re all done, maybe we can get back to worrying about turning this terrifying piece of my past over here into something space-worthy so that we can all get back to trying to keep Thanos from collecting the rest of the Infinity Stones, and maybe save the _goddamned universe_! How does _that_ sound?”

"Fine." Tony recovered first, his expression sardonic. "Come on, Loki, let's go."

"Uh, are you serious?" Peter asked, his eyes widening.

"I'm deadly serious." Tony was seconds away from calling his armor. "If a knock-down, drag-out fight is what this will take to get us to the point where we can work together, then let's do it."

"I decline." The jotun clasped his hands behind his back, his green eyes cool. "Were I to injure you, it would set our timeline back, which would not service my desires."

"And what are your desires?" Tony snarled, irritated that the jotun wouldn't give him this release.

"I do not wish to see the universe under a madman’s sway." His voice hardened as he continued. "I want Thanos brought low, so I shall gladly help prevent him from acquiring the Stones. You will not trust me, Stark, so trust my desire for vengeance."

"Okay." Tony relaxed fractionally. "Then let's agree to keep the personal remarks out of it. I will if you will." He offered his hand to the prince.

"Agreed." Loki shook his hand, careful to not grip too tightly.

"Then let's get back to work." Tony managed to keep his surprise off his face and his sardonic remarks off his lips as they turned their attention back to the job.

"I feel like we just watched the treaty ending a major war being signed," Peter whispered to Emma.

“Oh my god, no kidding,” she whispered back, sounding stunned. “I can’t believe that actually worked. Someone check the temperature in Hell and buy me a Lotto ticket!”


	50. Defenseless

“Mr. Loki is located on the northernmost balcony,” JARVIS replied to Phil’s request, drawing a grim smile from the human.

“Excellent,” he murmured, looking up at Thor. “He won’t be able to scurry away from us.” He eyed the casual, Earth-style clothing that the Asgardian had begun favoring. “Shouldn’t you put on your armor for this?”

Thor frowned. “I am not here to engage in battle with my brother, Phil. Nor does Loki respond well to threats or being trapped.”

“Well, it’s the only chance we’re going to get to talk to him without Zoe there,” Phil said, not pointing out that since Jane had joined the other women in their girls’ night out, Thor had nothing better to do. “She’s too protective of him. I can’t press him for what I need to know.”

Thor’s frown deepened, even as they turned the final corner. Their prey sat on a window seat overlooking the main cavern, his head bent over one of his books. When Loki glanced up and saw them approaching, he grimaced in impatience and closed the book, keeping a finger in his place. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I understand you seduced Ms. Satelle on your outing to Vanaheim.” Phil stopped with his hands in his pockets, looking deceptively calm and casual. “I wanted to have a little chat about your next moves.”

"I assure you, Agent, I do not require your advice on bedsport," Loki informed him laconically. "And at this point, _brother_ , you have none to give."

“That is because unlike you, _brother_ , I am upholding the traditions I was raised to value. The traditions taught to us by our parents.” His expression dared the younger prince to play the ‘unloved’ card again. He’d already told him what he thought of that argument for what he hoped was the last time.

Loki huffed haughtily. “Ah, yes, well Odin never did encourage us to think for ourselves. A tradition you have obviously taken to heart far better than I.”

“Just because I happen to agree with Father in this matter does not invalidate my argument!” Thor sighed and looked away for a moment. “I am not attempting to cause strife just for it’s own sake, Loki. My concern is for the Lady Zoe in this matter.”

“Then perhaps you should be speaking to _her_ ,” Loki replied archly. His lips twitched in an amused smirk at the thought of Thor informing Zoe that, for the sake of her reputation on Asgard, the two of them should be married immediately. “I’m certain such a conversation would be,” he paused and pretended to search for a word, “enlightening.”

“Have you no regard for her feelings, then?” Thor asked gravely, his eyes full of sadness. “The joining of bodies is the joining of souls. Mother taught us that, not Father. You revealed to us on Vanaheim that you and the Guardian Gamora were lovers. Can you truly tell me that you will ever be able to gaze upon her without some part of you harkening back to the time you spent in her arms? Do you think that Zoe does not now feel the same about you?”

The jotun paled, spots of red painting his cheeks in barely restrained rage. “Do not speak of things you do not understand,” he hissed, his hands gripping the book so tightly that the pages and cover groaned in protest under his fingers.

“Oh, I get it. She’s a modern Midgardian woman. She doesn’t need marriage,” Phil said casually, making his tone callous as he continued to talk. He didn’t like his own words, but maybe he could get Loki to admit that he was using the girl. “She’s pretty, willing - just the thing to provide a distraction for a decade or two, right?”

Phil’s words brought a red haze to the jotun’s mind and for a moment the world was lost in that crimson cloud. When he came to it was to the unpleasantly familiar sensation of an impossibly heavy hammer sitting on his chest. The edges of his vision were still blurred with red, but he could see Coulson now halfway across the room from him with Thor between the two of them. The mortal was satisfactorly pale, his eyes wide in shock and fear. "Take this blasted thing _off_ me, Thor," he ground out from under the mystic weapon.

Thor studied him for a moment, surprise and concern etched into his expression. He walked closer and reached down to lift the hammer, but then paused briefly. “I must first have your word that you will not attack the Son of Coul.”

“I’ll leave your precious little mortal intact,” he sneered, “so long as he does not provoke me again.”

Phil was perfectly fine with Thor leaving the hammer right where it was. “Provocation is an odd choice of words, Loki, given that your relationship to the people of Earth is nothing but one provocation after another. Now you expect me to believe that you have a genuine care for one of us. Sorry, but I’m neither insane nor stupid.”

He was _shaken_ though; he hadn’t expected Loki to come after him like that, in what appeared to be a blind rage. Had he not brought Thor with him, Loki would have killed him _again_. The jotun’s immediate, visceral reaction to his words spoke to a depth of feeling, but Phil wouldn’t assume it was about Zoe, not with the prince’s history with humanity. He could be pissed because Phil had figured him out or it could be a ruse.

"Verbal provocation is not sufficient reason for physical violence, not based on the terms you agreed to in order to be allowed entry to Sanctuary." Thor's eyes locked with his brother’s, pleading with him silently. Thor knew that the Midgardians trust of his brother hung by a very thin thread, and yet he could sense that there was something shifting about Loki. He didn't want him to throw it all away because of a temper tantrum. "Please, brother. You claim to be superior to the Midgardians, yet time and time again they have shown more restraint in their moments of anger than you just demonstrated. Can you not prove yourself capable of more?”

“You assume I care about proving myself to you,” he snapped, still chafing under the physical restraint of Mjolnir. “Or any of these pathetic creatures.”

“Not even the Lady Zoe?” Thor replied hotly, the thunder god’s temper flaring slightly.

Loki tried to push the hammer, knowing it was useless but compelled by his frustration. “ _She_ is not like the rest of you.”

“I can’t believe that she’d be okay with you feeling that way about her fellow man,” Phil pointed out, not entirely unreasonably. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to date someone who felt that way about humanity, and I know Zoe is a pretty upstanding young woman.”

“She is indeed,” Thor replied. He lifted Mjolnir off of Loki’s chest with ease, and extended a hand towards his brother. “At this very moment, she is out carousing with those that you consider ‘pathetic creatures’.”

The jotun ignored the hand and pulled himself to his feet, muttering, “I am aware.”

Thor pulled his hand back, still grimacing at the sting of the small rejection even though he had fully expected it. He turned to Phil with a look not dissimilar from the one he had turned on Loki moments ago; a silent plea for patience instead of temper. He walked over to a table and set the mighty warhammer down in a gesture of non-aggression, hoping his hot-headed sibling would interpret the action as intended.

“My brother, I am sorry for coming to confront you in the spirit of anger,” the blonde warrior spoke calmly, giving the words a moment of thought before saying them. “You know that I do not agree with your actions, and you know the reasons why. But even the Man of Iron, Tony Stark, reminded me back on Vanaheim that you are not violating Midgardian customs - at least not the ones that Lady Zoe abides by.”

Though he did not fear his brother’s physical aggression the way the other Avengers did, Thor still hesitated briefly before continuing. Loki had rebuffed his attempts at compassion or reconciliation at every turn, but Thor still thought of the younger prince as his brother before all else and he felt each rejection as a small dart upon his soul. It was becoming harder and harder to try, yet still he still felt the need. “Let us speak as brothers, Loki. Help me understand what it is you find different about the Lady Zoe. Tell me what it is about her that draws you to her, and causes you to value her company so? She is a beautiful woman, but I know you. I know that for you there is more than that.”

“He doesn’t need to tell us why.” Phil returned to the conversation, having finally gotten his composure back in place. As Thor turned to him, surprised, the agent said, “It’s none of them our business, Thor. I got my question answered, so I’m satisfied.”

“Your question?” Thor queried.

“Yes. I wanted to know what his intentions towards her were,” the human explained. “He’s done that; the rest isn’t my business unless he wants to tell us.”

“Finally, a reasonable statement,” Loki said with a smirk, but there was an uncertainty in his eyes. He didn’t understand why the mortal was backing down now.

“Let me get one thing straight.” Phil straightened and locked eyes with the jotun. As Thor tensed and prepared to intercede again, Phil said, “I don’t like you and I don’t like that you’re dating her or whatever the nature of your relationship is. But Zoe’s free to make her own choices.” He started to leave and stopped himself. “Oh, and, if you hurt her, I’ll have you dropped in an active volcano. I’ve always wondered what that would do to an ice giant.” He turned again, muttering under his breath, “I just wish she’d never met you.”

“You would have preferred I left her in that cell?” Loki’s hard words stopped the man.

Phil shook his head. “The Avengers-”

“Were only there because my sister used the Bifrost to follow me.” The jotun crossed his arms, glaring.

“They would have rescued Zoe.” Phil pointed out. “They _did_ get her out. You were just there.”

Loki snorted in derision. “They had no idea she was there and after the death of the Soldier they leveled the compound. She would have been buried in the rubble.”

“We don’t know that,” Phil insisted. “We’ll never know, because of the way it went down. And his name was Steve. You should remember that since he died saving _you_!”

The jotun swallowed, his expression grim, and replied, “A responsibility I am keenly aware of.”

“Yeah, you’re doing a bang-up job of fulfilling that responsibility, then.” Phil made a dismissive gesture and stalked away. His impetuous exit denied him the opportunity to see the bright flush on Loki’s face, though Thor saw it clearly.

“What will you do?” the thunder god asked his brother in the silence that followed.

Loki straightened, pulling his dignity around him like a second set of armor. “My duty.” He scooped up his book from the floor and settled himself back onto the window seat he’d occupied when Thor and Phil had found him. He gave Thor a surly glance, and opened the book again. “Certainly there must be something somewhere on this speck of a planet that requires hammering, hmn?”

“Nothing more so than your head,” Thor grumbled under his breath, but it was without heat. With that, he hefted Mjolnir back up off the table and made his way towards the door, leaving Loki to his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!


	51. Fancy

“So, Zoe, what’s Loki like in bed?” Darcy’s question sounded more like a trap snapping shut in Zoe’s mind than an innocent query, mostly because she was tired from dancing and trapped in the quinjet for a few more hours. She couldn’t politely dodge Darcy’s less than subtle questions anymore.

All of the women glanced at Darcy and then at Zoe, with varying degrees of interest on their faces. Zoe licked her lips, searching for the right answer. “Tall and horizontal, mostly.”

“Oh, come on!” Darcy rolled her eyes, adding a drunken sway when the motion nearly unbalanced her on the seat. As Jane grabbed her and steadied her, the young woman said, “You can’t hold out on us! Jane won’t fuck Thor--”

“Not my call,” the petite scientist muttered.

“--so I can’t get the skinny on what it’s like to sleep with a prince from her.” She stared at Zoe, her voice imploring, “You have to give us _something_!”

Zoe gave the room a quick glance over and replied dryly, “I’m fairly certain you’re the only one in the room that wants the skinny on what _Loki_ is like in bed, space prince or not.”

“What I want to know is why you’re sleeping with him.” Natasha had been quiet near that back, where the lights were dimmed. Zoe couldn’t read the assassin’s face in the shadows.

She straightened her shoulders and tried not to immediately become defensive; the evening had been nice, fun, and she didn’t want it to end on a sour note. “Because I like him and because I enjoy it.” She shrugged, “Which I think covers 95% of why most people sleep with someone.”

“Okay, let’s look at this another way,” Natasha said softly. “Zoe, we’re worried for you. Loki is a liar, and manipulative as hell. I know, I had to get information out of him once.”

Zoe’s lips thinned. “From what I read in the SHIELD files, that’s not an unusual skill set for the _Avengers_.” She sighed and looked away from Natasha, reigning her temper. “I get it. I _do_. I’m just tired of being told what to think, what to feel, what to do. Maybe I’m making a huge mistake and I’m going to get my heart broken, but right now...right at this particular point in my life, I’d rather make that decision and fall flat on my face than let someone, _anyone_ , else make it for me. Even if it’d guaranteed I’d be safe and no could ever hurt me again.”

She rubbed her hands over her arms and added, “Even free from HYDRA, I don’t have a lot of choices I really get to make in my life. Not with everything the way it is now. So this one is mine, and the more people poke and prick at me about it, the more I want to be stubborn just for the sake of being stubborn.”

“Actually,” Natasha said with a hint of dry humor, “I really wasn’t trying to talk you out of it. I’m worried about you, but I get that you’re pretty firmly decided, and you’ve made this bed. I just - I can’t understand why you can look at him, know what he did, and not be repulsed.”

“Oh,” Zoe flushed, debating blaming her outburst on the drinks she’d had or not. She was honestly a bit frustrated and confused on that point: before everything in her life had gone sideways, she could sniff a wine cooler and be out for the night. Tonight, she’d lost count of the number of shots she’d put away, but she’d realized halfway through the night that she was pretty much keeping pace with _Verun._

She pursed her lips and sought out Natasha’s face in the gloom, her tone was soft but insistent. “Couldn’t that be said of most of the Avengers? Tony created and sold weapons of mass destruction for most of his life. You and Clint and Bucky were all assassins at one point or another, and you were a career spy on top of that. Every single one of you have done things in your past that you hate, but you were all given second chances. Why doesn’t Loki get one? Because it’s too recent? Or too public? Or just that he did it to _you_?” The last was said with an inflection that encompassed all the Avengers, present or not. “What has made all of you worthy and him not?”

“Because I’m sorry for what I did,” Natasha replied, her voice too controlled for anything other than hiding extreme emotion. “I regret my mistakes, and I’m working to correct them. Loki doesn’t.”

“You would honestly claim you know him well enough to know that?” Zoe made herself sit back in against the bench, forcing her muscles to relax. A fight could be made without ever raising your voice, if you let your body do your talking for you. She tried a small smile. “He’s got a pretty large bullshit mask up most of the time, but you _are_ a phenomenal spy, from what I’d read.”

“I _am_ a phenomenal spy, and I haven’t seen any regret coming from him,” Natasha replied, still masked by darkness. Jane was holding her tongue, looking interested in Zoe’s answers, while Darcy looked too scared to interrupt. In contrast, Verun continued to read a book she’d drawn out of her shoulder bag. Gamora seemed to be asleep, but she opened her eyes and listened without comment.

"Me either," Emma interjected, her voice thoughtful. She was sitting on her own, where she had been doing her best to work off a touch of melancholy. The night had been a lot of fun but she’d spent the last part of the night watching other people dance to music that she could no longer hear, and that had been more difficult than she’d anticipated. Now she pushed that aside and twisted around so that she could see Zoe as she spoke. "Of course, I'm no spy. Loki was such a bad person in our minds for so long, Zoe. It's kind of hard to trust someone who not only did the things he did, but doesn't act remorseful about it at all. He did volunteer to help us out with the ship the other day, though. I didn't expect that."

“Do you hold Clint responsible for what he did after Loki used the staff on him?” Zoe asked carefully. She had a point to make, but she also knew she was touching on sore wounds.

Much as the young woman’s question might annoy the Black Widow, the red-head was impressed by her retention of the SHIELD files she’d read. In a different life, she’d probably have made an excellent agent - abysmal choices in boyfriends aside.

“There is no proof that Loki had the staff used on him the same way that Clint did,” Natasha said, only to have Verun finally look up from her book, belying her previous indifference.

“In truth, he wasn’t controlled in the same way, but it wasn’t dissimilar, either,” she said in her crisp, precise voice. “The control on Loki allowed him more freedom but the tendrils in his mind went deeper. Hawkeye was able to reject the sceptre’s influence fairly quickly but it was still influencing Loki until Odin removed its intrusion.”

“Thanos’ corruption is like that,” Gamora explained in a quiet voice. Though here was audible strain in her tone, her face remained blankly impassive. “Loki and I were both broken by the mad titan, but Loki was also bound by the sceptre, which forced him to be an agent of Thanos’ will.”

“That said, Zoe,” Verun continued as she turned to the young woman, “Loki has done terrible things for his own vanity. He killed our true father to impress Odin, and he tried to kill Thor to protect his hold on the throne. Remember, he is exiled from his own people.”

“So you agree with us?” Natasha asked.

“About him having someone who cares for him?” Verun tilted her head, thinking a moment. “If he’s true to his intentions about her, then I don’t have an opinion, one way or another. If it is love and not animal lust, then I think it has no bearing on my feelings for him.”

“So you’re with Thor on the not-before-marriage thing?” Jane asked, her tone a touch acerbic.

“No, the Vanir require waiting until engagement, which is usually treated as a ‘test marriage’. The couple will often live together for a time and see if they are compatible.” Verun shifted on her seat and shrugged. “Much ill has been done to and by Loki, and I believe that some tenderness in his life will help him with that. But only help; nothing can heal his wounds without him committing hard work on his own heart and soul.”

Natasha leaned forward, not letting the conversation get derailed. “The final thing I want to know - Zoe, are you sure that you entered into this willingly?”

“He’s not controlling my mind, if that’s what you’re asking,” Zoe answered levelly. “You said it yourself, he’s manipulative. So, I might be being manipulated.” She shrugged. “Just like anyone _could_ be being manipulated in a relationship. It’s a risk I’m willing to take and I believe he’s being genuine with me. Trust me, I’ve been through the fuck-and-dump before, to an extreme.”

“And he’s not using magic on her,” Verun added with finality.

“Huh,” Zoe looked thoughtful at the reminder of Loki’s own talents. “I wonder if I could get him to teach me magic. His kind, I mean. The illusions and stuff.” She chuckled, “That’d be a twist.” Natasha didn’t look satisfied but she didn’t ask anything else.

“So, instead of everyone goin’ on an’ on ‘bout how much o’va bad boy Loki is,” Darcy interjected drunkenly from her sprawl a few feet down the padded bench from Zoe, “why don’ ya' tell us why ya' _fancy_ him?”

“Well, it started because he saved me.” Zoe ran a hand through her hair, ruining the little bit of styling that had survived the night of dancing. “He killed the people that had been torturing me day after day, and then even when I attacked him, he didn’t just leave me there to rot.” She nodded her head towards Verun and Natasha, admitting with a wry grin, “And yes, I am well aware that he was more interested in my abilities than me as a person at that point. Still, he could have left me, he could have killed me, and he didn’t.”

"I am glad to hear you say that." Emma gave Zoe a small half-smile. "I kind of figured that at least part of the attraction was that he did rescue you, and that you might have a bit of, I don't know, hero worship, I guess? I actually understand that one really well," she admitted. "But I was concerned that your gratitude might have blinded you to some of the less pleasant stuff."

“You mean the fact that he has everyone around him jumping like kids hearing their first ghost story by acting the ultimate in bratty toddler?” Zoe huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I had noticed. And I stopped letting him get away with it around me, but I did that without attacking him about it either. I made it clear that if he wanted to spend time with me, then he had to at least _act_ like a better person. And if it’s ‘fake it till you make it’? At least that’s a better habit than the tantrum two year old routine.”

She shifted on her seat, thinking more about why she was enamoured of the taciturn man. “So, we covered the whole ‘rescued me’ bit. After that, I liked that he had higher expectations of me than everyone else seems to. I asked a question, he answered and expected me to deal with the answer even if it was scary or unwelcomed. And I know you guys were going to tell me, Natasha, but admit it - you’ve all handled me with kid gloves from the moment you met me. And Phil just. . . yeah, that on overdrive. I feel like everyone sees me as this liability, this _kid_ , following around after them because no one actually knows what to do about me but everyone’s too polite to tell me to just go away. _He_ doesn’t treat me that way. He. . .challenges me. And he trusts me. That’s a pretty heady mix.” She tapped her finger to lip and added a flippant, “Oh, and he’s literally out-of-this-world hot and great in the sack.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Gamora smirked at Zoe, her eyes alight with humor.

Zoe laughed and gave Gamora a lazy salute, “You’ll be happy to know he did in fact acknowledge that all he knows, he learned from you. I owe you something chocolately and sinful.”

“What is chocolately?” Gamora asked.

“Oh, my god!” Darcy sat up straight. “Ladies, we have failed to teach Gamora the most important thing about Earth! We must rectify this, immediately!”

“I’ll talk to the pilot,” Natasha said with a small smile, standing up and heading for the cockpit. “Let’s see where we can safely stop on the way home to pick some up.” Darcy’s drunken cheers filled the quinjet and the women’s conversation turned to safer topics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!


	52. Liberate

Her footsteps were muffled as she climbed the stair to his throne. She was not afraid; Thanos was her master and keeper. There was no place for fear in her heart.

The Mad Titan watched her approach, his expression calm. She held the sceptre in her hand and kept her body language respectful. “My Lord,” she murmured as she reached the second stair from the top and sank gracefully to her knees. “I have come to report.”

“So I see.” Shrewd red eyes studied her for a long moment. “Who are you?”

“I am Sif,” she said, glorying in being in his presence, even as another part of her fought her delight.

“You are Asgardian,” Thanos said, leaning forward a touch. “How did my sceptre come to you?”

“Odin was keeping it in his royal vaults.” Sif smiled proudly. “I liberated it for you, Lord Thanos.”

“The Asgardians were also keeping the Tesseract.” Thanos watched her reaction closely as he asked, “Did you manage to liberate that as well?”

Sif’s stomach plummeted. “I did my Lord,” she said, hearing her voice shake in shame, “but it was taken from me.”

Her Lord’s eyes rose to rest on the ship she’d arrived in. “That is not from your people,” he said, his fingers flexing on the armrests. “I sense you have a fascinating report for me.”

His tone promised reward and pain in one breath, drawing a shiver out of her. She’d never shown this kind of fear and deference to another person before, not even Odin, but Thanos deserved it. Why had she never seen the majesty of his being before becoming his servant? She’d heard of him before but since touching the sceptre she knew him worthy of her adoration.

“Sif?”

His tone was gentle not angry, but she cringed. “I lost myself in thoughts of you,” she admitted, dropping her eyes to the stones at the base of his throne.

“Tell me what has happened to my Tesseract.” He smiled at her as benignly as a father at a wayward child.

“I took it from Odin’s vault when I took the sceptre,” she said, only to have her voice falter as she thought of the guards she’d killed. _My fellow Asgardians_ . . . Her mind jerked away from the memories, returning to the glorious dreams that had drawn her to the sceptre. “I dreamed of you, my lord,” she told him, flushing slightly at her bold words. “I dreamed of you sitting on your throne and I at your feet.”

“Later, perhaps.” His massive fingers drummed on the arm. “Continue.”

Sif wrenched her eyes away from the coveted position in front of his chair. “I knew you would want as many of the Infinity Gems as I could find, so I used the Tesseract to travel to the domain of the Collector. Odin had bid me take the Aether there for safekeeping a few years ago. I fought him and I took the Aether from him. I learned that another power stone had been found, and was protected on Xandar. I proceeded there, and that was where things went awry.”

She swallowed as she reached the point where she failed her lord. “On Xandar, the native forces were enough to keep me busy until a team of five people arrived. Four of them fought me to a standstill while the fifth took the Tesseract and broke the shell on the Aether.”

“So where is the Aether?” Thanos growled.

“It is in me, my lord.” Sif dared to meet his eyes for an instant. “I absorbed it before anyone else could.”

“It is good for you that I know how to extract the Aether," the titan told her with a smile. "Nebula."

The blue skinned alien materialized from the shadows, as if she'd been part of them until summoned into existence by Thanos. "Yes, Father?"

"Would you like another sister?" he asked, though everyone in the room knew it was an empty gesture. The titan would do as he pleased without regard to his adopted daughter's wishes.

Still, Nebula played the game, circling the kneeling woman. "As you desire, Father. This one seems a bit _weak_."

"Asgardians are known for their battle prowess, Nebula." Ignoring Sif completely, he asked, "Why do you judge her as fragile?"

"There is weakness in her eyes," the cyborg snarled, stopping behind the raven-haired beauty. Sif tensed as the dangerous daughter hovered behind her but didn't move, her gaze on Thanos. "In battle, she would crumble."

"I have survived _many_ battles," Sif snapped, anger rising in her voice. "I earned the right to fight along Prince Thor, the only woman to have done so."

"You have?" Nebula voice was full of scorn. "We held Prince Loki of Asgard as our prisoner for some time. I'm not impressed with Asgardian battle prowess."

"Loki was a sneak and coward, using magic and illusion instead of his might." Sif trembled, wanting to face her accuser. The cyborg remained behind her, and Thanos before, so the Agardian seethed with growing rage. "I can show you a real Asgardian warrior."

"Do it." Thanos nodded at Nebula, who jumped back and drew her swords.

Sif stared at him for a moment, barely believing that she'd be allowed to show her prowess to her titan. When he smiled benevolently, she spun to face his daughter, lifting the sceptre before her. Pulling her sword free of its sheath, she advanced on the blue alien, ready to prove and vindicate herself.

Nebula came to meet her, weapons flashing in the dim light from the stars. They met in the middle, the metal blades ringing from the impacts. The alien's speed surprised Sif, but it wasn't the first time she'd been outpaced in a conflict. She shifted to defensive, concentrating on wearing the titan's daughter down. Nebula persisted in her aggressive frontal assault, trying to break through the Asgardian's defenses.

First blood was Nebula's; the cyborg snaked a blade past Sif's and opened a small cut on her arm. Sif froze, glancing to Thanos to see if the bout was over. The delay almost cost her a second wound; Nebula didn't hesitate to strike again and the Asgardian barely got the sceptre up in time. As the two weapons sparked, the other woman flinched away from the golden staff.

 _Is she afraid of it?_ Sif tossed her sword into the air long enough to switch hands on the sceptre. She led the next attack with the sceptre in her strong hand, and was rewarded with Nebula jerking back from the device. _Perfect_ , Sif thought, her face twisting into a wicked grin.

Nebula grimaced as she was forced to confront the staff repeatedly, too worried about the Asgardian controlling her mind to be effective against it. Her eyes kept darting to the glowing blue stone, distracting her from parries and assaults. Now it was Sif who pressed her, driving her back with the sceptre repeatedly while downplaying use of her sword. With the woman's attention fully on the blue gem, Sif slashed in with her sword. The Asgardian blade cut through Nebula's arm, sending gore flying and rendering it useless. Thoughts of blood were foremost in Sif's mind and she prepared to remove the blue alien's head from her shoulders with-

"Stop." Thanos's command caught Sif in mid-swing and she altered the arc on her blade. Nebula glared at her as the sword sliced the air over her head. "I think you've proven your strength," the Titan said, approval warm in his voice.

"It isn't _her_ strength," Nebula spat.

"No, it's your fear." Her adoptive father and tormentor glared at her. "She saw your weakness and used it." Nebula dropped her eyes to hide the fury in her gaze, but they both knew it was there.

The titan's expression shifted as he turned back to the Asgardian, widening into a beaming smile. "Welcome home, daughter."

~  *  ~  *  ~

_Bodies falling, bloody. He stalked among them, careless of their death throes or cries of pain. They were not the mission. They were collateral, the staff of the warlord's mansion. He was here to deliver a message, written with an arrogant man's death--_

The notification chime of his phone jerked Bucky awake. He lay in the dark for a moment before palming the glowing device. He knew who it would be: Verun. He opened the miniature mail service which was just called texting for some reason, feeling sick and grumpy.

_I'm outside._

Groaning, Bucky let his arm fall. He didn't deserve her offer of comfort. _I don't deserve her._

His phone dinged again.

_I choose you anyway. Come out, James Buchanan Barnes._

He smiled despite his self-loathing. _Telepathy is unfair,_ he awkwardly typed.

While he waited for a reply, he pulled on a shirt and pants. By the time his phone dinged, he was ready but he checked her message anyway. _So is life. I'm waiting._

"Can't keep a pretty girl waiting," he said as he opened the door. He'd seen her a hundred times before, but when she smiled, it still took his breath away. He wanted to sink his hands into her long, black hair, to kiss her generous lips, and to stare into those green eyes as he held her. Instead, he kissed her cheek, his lips lingering against her soft skin.

She looped her arms around him and he pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her hair. "I heard your dream," she whispered.

"Nightmare," he replied grimly.

"Memory," she counter-corrected.

"Memory," he agreed, turning with her under his arm. This was their SOP for his post-nightmare therapy: a nighttime stroll to chase away the demons he'd summoned. She remained silent as they left the Avenger's Place, waiting for him to choose whether he'd speak about it. She didn't have to wait long; tonight he needed to talk. "It was a mission in Africa. I was to kill a man. He had a lot of guards and innocent people around him. They were in my way, so I removed them." He swallowed and clarified. "I killed them if they got in my way. Not just if they were trying to stop me but if killing them was faster, I did it."

Verun just nodded, her arm around his waist. "And that is harder because you made that choice."

Bucky winced and swallowed against rising bile. She'd said the truth, the one thing he couldn't escape. He only had to kill the warlord. He didn't have to murder the innocents. It didn't matter that he'd had remorse wiped out of him. He'd had the option to turn away, and he hadn't. "They deserved better than they got," he said gruffly, trying to hide the tears in his voice. Verun didn't mind but some days, he felt like all he did was cry about the past. An echo of his mother telling him that only girls cried passed through his memory and he banished it with effort.

"So did you," Verun persisted, even as he shook his head.

"It's different when you're the one who did them wrong," he whispered, his hand tightening around her shoulders.

"Yes," she agreed, "but you cannot change what was done, only--"

"Remember them and do better in their memory," he finished. They'd had this conversation before. "It's the only reason I can wear his suit." They walked in silence for a long moment, her strong, warm body a balm against his side. "If I had killed you, would you forgive me?"

"I could not, I'd be dead." She put her head on his shoulder and he sensed a shift in mood.

"What's wrong?"

"I worry that I'll lose you too soon." The Vanir lifted her head and tried to smile but he could see the sadness. "You have so little time, I fear you'll die before you know happiness again."

The urge to fix the problem rose, even as he privately admitted he didn't have a clue how to do that. Still, his feelings for her demanded he try. "I may, but remember, I'm already an old man and I'm pretty spry." She made a face and he stopped her, drawing a finger under her chin and lifting her face. "I can't promise you centuries, like another Vanaheimian coul--What?"

It took her several minutes to stop giggling. "It's Vanir, not Vanaheimian, Bucky." The artificial light, silvered to look like the moon, made her fair skin glow.

He chuckled, his heart melting at the good humor in her expression. "I can't promise you centuries like a Vanir or a Vanaheimian," he told her with a straight face, somehow holding it even as she started to giggle again. When she stopped, he added, "But I'll give you what I have left."

Verun smiled softly. "I'll take whatever you can give, gladly. My heart yearns for you, like no other. I never dreamed I'd love a mortal, that I could find anything interesting about one. But you have taught me I was wrong."

His throat closed and he fought tears, this time for a different reason. He pulled her against him and kissed her deeply, unlike his usual proper pecks. They were both fighting for air when they parted, and he immediately blurted, "I want to marry you. I mean, I'll ask you right, later, but I want you to know that you're the first girl I've wanted to share my life with."

"I wish to be wed to you, too," she told him, looking at him through her lashes.

Happiness flowed through him, and tightened his chest almost painfully. "I love you, Verun."

"And I you, Bucky." She kissed him, and her green eyes all-but glowed as she said, "For all my days."

That would be too many days without him, and he wondered what he'd done right to deserve her. He wasn't going to worry about it; he would take what joy he could find, and hold it close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! :)
> 
> Also, starting next Wednesday Deprough and Malachite will be posting a new fanfiction! This is unrelated to Age of Miracles, though also set in the MCU and our own spin on the ABO verse. So, next week please come check it out! We'll post once a week in that fic, so now you'll have a mid-week fanfic fix from us as well!


	53. Criminal

It was very early in the morning, though time still sometimes felt relative to the underground inhabitants of Sanctuary despite the combination of LED lighting and advanced technology that illuminated the caverns. It might imitate the natural days and nights and keep them from suffering any health consequences of living below the surface, but they still _knew_ it wasn’t real.

Despite the hour, the _Maria Beta_ ’s ship bay was well lit. The jagged lines of the wrecked spacecraft were visible from the lab adjoining it, through massive windows filled the entire wall so that it felt as if there was no actual barrier there at all.

The door to the lab opened and Emma backed in. She was juggling a laptop under one arm and a drink carrier holding four insulated cups in the other. Steam rose in delicate wisps from the lids, and the air was suddenly filled with the pleasant aroma of roasted coffee.

“Good morning, boys,” she announced, skimming the room briefly. Tony was there, staring out at the _Maria_ though the window thoughtfully. Peter was fidgeting with the three-dimensional plans that were projected over the work table, and Loki was intently skimming through something on a tablet. "I brought us a kick-start."

She sat her laptop down on a table so that she was no longer juggling it. Then she began to make the rounds, handing each one of them a cup. "Ethiopian Yirgacheffe, medium-roast, from Tony’s private stash.”

“Hey! Who said you could raid my supplies?” Tony objected, even as he took the cup from her. “We’re on rations down here, I’ve got to smuggle this stuff in.”

“Well, I knew you wouldn’t drink anything else,” she countered with a wry smile. “And if I’m fixing you the good stuff, then we’re having it too.”

After their discussion on the plane ride back to Sanctuary, Emma had given the matter of Loki some thought. Zoe was right; most of them hadn't offered the younger Asgardian prince much in the way of kindness or hospitality, and it was worth a shot just to see if it had any effect on the way he treated others. Verun seemed to think it might help, and with Tony’s hesitant work truce it seemed like the perfect time to approach.

Loki lifted the cup to his nose and sniffed it cautiously. “Is this like the intolerably bitter coffee they served me in New York? I had to add things to it to make it palatable.”

“I find all coffee to be intolerably bitter,” Peter remarked. “You guys still have Mountain Dew?”

“Yes, you Philistine,” Tony told him, inhaling deeply before taking a careful sip of his drink. “Go to the cafeteria and ask, and you and all the other twelve year olds can Roshambo over the available supplies of it.”

"I doubt it’s anything like what you had in New York,” she responded to Loki, ignoring the two bickering men while pulling her own tea from the carrier and setting it down. “You might try it first. The quality is very good, it’s a medium roast so it’s a bit less bitter, and I don’t overbrew mine like some of those chain places do. For those of you who aren’t purists, however, I stocked the lab with milk and sweeteners and all that stuff." she said as she gestured to a small mini-fridge in the corner. It was topped with a small tray containing covered bowls, various self-serve packets, a couple of glass syrup bottles, and a cup full of thin red stirring straws. She took a small sip of her own without bothering to partake of any of the aforementioned beverage fixings, and a contented sigh escaped her lips. After a brief moment, she stood a little straighter and gestured towards the window at the wreckage. “So, where are we at?”

“Missing at least half of the materials or suitable substitutes we’re going to need,” Loki said. He sipped cautiously at the coffee, finding it far more pleasant than the drek he’d been served six weeks or so ago. _Has it only been that long? It seems more like a century._ “We only have two major components - the actual hull of the ship and the shielding for the engine - that we can currently build. And that is only if the Man of Iron can obtain the necessary metal from,” he glanced down at his tablet, “Wakanda. Everything else will take at least a month to build the machines necessary to create the rest of the materials.”

“ _Or_ ,” Peter piped up, “we could just send someone to get what we need. With the Tesser-thingy-”

“Tesseract,” Loki corrected with only a touch of irritation in his voice. “Which will likely alert Sif to your location.”

“My location _at the time_ ,” Peter retorted. “We just need long enough to get the stuff, then we’re right back to home sweet home.”

“Could Sif or Thanos put together what’s going on from a list of what we buy?” Tony asked, mulling the idea over. Truth be told, he didn’t know how else they were reasonably going to get what they needed without having to start a second Industrial Revolution to get it made.

“Not Sif,” Loki conceded. “She knows likely even less than Thor of the building of spacecraft. Thanos. . .” He suppressed a shiver, holding his eyes closed for a moment. “He is not called the ‘mad Titan’ simply for dramatics, but his madness is matched by his intellect. He might very well be able to tell what the parts are for and infer that the Star-Lord is hiding somewhere without space-faring technology. I could transport you there with the Tesseract and remain hidden by illusion.”

“Whoa, there, Reindeer Games,” Tony scowled. “Trusting you in the lab is one thing, handing an Infinity Stone over to you that you’ve already used against Earth once is something else all together.”

Having spent some time around Loki now, Emma could see the effect Tony’s suspicion had on him. She could feel the wall of his pride slam back into place and the venom that had only just begun to leave his voice found purchase again.

“Then Emma must travel with the Star-Lord,” he retorted snidely, motioning to Peter.

“Why?” Tony bit off the question.

“To use the Tesseract, you must know where you are going,” Loki snapped. “None of the Avengers have been to Knowhere, save Thor, and his banishment from there does not end for several more decades.”

“Well, Verun is the one with Tesseract now. Why don’t we ask her if she’s been there?” Peter asked.

“If she has, then she and Emma can go and that way the Guardians don’t pop back up on anyone’s radar,” Tony jumped on the possibility.

Peter frowned. “Not just the two of you. You’ll be buying a lot of materials and it’s best if you look like you can afford bodyguards to keep you from getting robbed.”

“We could take Bucky with us, too,” Emma offered.

“They’ve never met me,” Tony interjected, his voice sharp. “I can go.”

“Is there someone else who can obtain the alloy we require from here on Midgard?” Loki asked with a smooth and malicious glee. If he would be blocked from using the Tesseract because of Stark’s paranoia, then the least he could do was return the favor and keep Tony grounded as well.

“That’s not-” Stark tried again, rounding on the riled prince.

“You know there isn’t anyone, Tony,” Emma cut him off. “Besides, the only person who knows this ship better than me is you, and if anything _were_ to happen...” She trailed off as Tony’s expression grew grim, realizing she had taken the wrong tactic. Then, suddenly, her expression brightened. “We’ll talk to Phil, too; he’s got ‘bodyguard’ and ‘bad-ass’ written all over that suit and tie. That would give us four, total. ”

Peter nodded, “Yeah, that could work. We could send you all to Taneleer, the Collector. Guy’s a creep but he knows pretty much everyone and what they’ve got. He’s also got a personal bitch in this, so he’ll probably be more helpful than usual.”

“This is all assuming Verun’s ever been to the place,” Tony grumbled, annoyed at having lost control of the conversation.

“We can ask her tonight after we’re done for the day,” Emma spoke soothingly, trying to unruffle feathers before the fragile team fell apart. “How about we start on what we _can_ do with the _Maria_ right now?”

Several hours passed, and noon came and went with little acknowledgement except for a deli platter being dropped off with a reminder from Darcy to _eat_. Tony and Peter had pulled the engine and brought it into the lab so they could begin pulling the components that would have to be replaced or refitted to accommodate the alien technology. Emma stood nearby, her laptop as well as papers full of physics equations and other mathematical scribbles spread out before her as she worked on altering the _Maria_ ’s schematics. Behind her, Loki was using Tony’s holographic drafting software to engineer a control panel fitted to the Maria’s cockpit space. Emma could still feel the wall of cold indifference he’d erected, but the hours away from direct contact with Tony had softened the edges a bit.

Peter climbed down from the top of the ladder, making his way over towards the half-empty meat platter. He grabbed some turkey and a slice of pepper-jack, rolling it all up together and taking a bite out of it. He watched Emma as he ate, something he’d been doing throughout the day. _She looks so hot like that,_ he thought, with her wavy red hair pulled up in a messy ponytail and her glasses pushed up to the top of her head so she could concentrate.

He still couldn’t put a finger on whether anything was going on with her and Stark, but they certainly weren’t acting like it. Even though they still had that vibe, he was definitely ready to chalk it up to old history and see if he could get to know her better. He pushed off of the counter and made his way over to her, trying for subtlety by standing behind her and placing a hand on the table. He leaned in closer to take a look at what she was working on.

“Hey,” he murmured, flashing her a friendly smile as she turned to glance at him. He waited for her to tug her glasses back down before continuing. “Looks complicated. You getting anywhere with all this?”

“I think so,” she replied with a small smile in return. “This probably looks like the boring part to you, huh? Sitting here working on diagrams and calculations while you and Tony are over there really getting to work. I admit, I’m a little jealous. I can’t wait to get my hands on some of the computer tech we’ll be bringing back.”

"I dunno," he replied, gesturing towards her work spread out all over the table. "This is pretty impressive. You've gotta be really smart to know how to figure out all this stuff." He glanced briefly back at the engine, noticing that Stark was still absorbed with what he was doing. Then he turned back to Emma with his most charming grin, his voice dropping to a quieter, more intimate tone. "It's kinda sexy, honestly."

He was rewarded with a small laugh and a surprised flush of color across her dusky-colored cheeks. "Thanks. I don't hear that one very often."

"Well that's just criminal," he responded flirtatiously. "And I used to be a notorious space pirate. I know all about criminal."

"I see," she replied dryly, but her lips were still curved in an amused smile so he decided to press on.

"Maybe after you get back from your shopping trip we could hang out or something," Peter suggested hopefully. “You could help me catch up some more on all the cool stuff I missed.”

“Maybe,” she responded with another soft laugh, “I’ll think about it. But I really should get back to work.”

“Yeah. Absolutely,” he replied with casual nod. She grinned at him mischievously, then pushed her glasses back up and turned back to focus on her work. The space captain grinned victoriously once her back was turned, then began to back away from her, still giving her one last once-over from behind.

Unfortunately, he was so distracted by the female Avenger that he didn’t realize there was a stool behind him. He back into it and tripped, letting out a surprised yell as he fell and  sending the stool clattering to the ground. Emma spun around with a surprised yelp, then laughed again as she got a good look at the scene before her.

“What is going on over there?” Tony called out, the racket finally having pulled his attention away from his work on the engine.

“Good job, Star-Lord,” she teased, holding out a hand to help him up.

He reached up and took it, too embarrassed to rebuff the offer. He dusted himself off as he stood, and then rubbed the back of his neck with his hand sheepishly. “Thanks,” he muttered quietly.

“No problem,” she replied, catching the simple word as his lips formed it. “Might want to watch where you’re going next time, though.” When Emma glanced past Star Lord, she found Loki watching them with an unreadable expression. As her eyes fell on him, he returned his attention to the data pad in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a teaser for Deprough's and Malachite's new fiction starting Wednesday, we've posted our primer for our variation on the ABO 'verse. Please check it out and let us know what you think! :)
> 
> [**Gammaverse Primer**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4594635) (2772 words) by [**deprough**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/deprough), [**MalachiteDrake**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MalachiteDrake)  
>  Chapters: 1/1  
> Fandom: [Marvel Cinematic Universe](http://archiveofourown.org/tags/Marvel%20Cinematic%20Universe), [The Avengers (Marvel Movies)](http://archiveofourown.org/tags/The%20Avengers%20\(Marvel%20Movies\))  
> Rating: General Audiences  
> Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  
> Additional Tags: ABO Variant, Gammaverse  
> Series: Part 1 of [Gammaverse](http://archiveofourown.org/series/306831)  
> Summary:
> 
> This is the primer/source material for the Gammaverse, a variant on the Omegaverse. Please feel free to suggest additions, request additions, ask questions, and use the primer for you own Gammaverse fics! We would love if you would link your Gammaverse fics in the comments here (the easier for us to go look!) and perhaps put a link to the primer in the notes or such on your fic (not at all required, just nice). We hope you enjoy!
> 
> Oh, also, this is a forever work in progress but updates will be sporadic. :)


	54. Experiment

“JARVIS, be a good little wight and track the decibels in the room,” Loki said aloud, confident that the Man of Iron would have thoroughly cowed his invisible servants into compliance.

“May I ask, Mr. Odinson, how this pertains to the reconstruction of the _Maria Beta_?” The wight’s smooth voice filled the earphones he wore to stop the whine of the archaic power saw.

“It doesn’t,” Loki said, easily stepping aside as a charred piece of the hull bounced off the catwalk and fell away to hit the floor with an echoing thud. He watched as everyone in the next room reacted to the sound before returning to their work.  “Consider it an experiment.”

“Sir has asked that I run all of your requests through him for approval.” JARVIS didn’t sound the least bit apologetic, and Loki downgraded his high approval of the wight.

“Did he? How droll,” Loki sighed, brightening a little as Emma entered the room. “I shall make a deal with you: I’ll tell ‘sir’ of my request at a time of my choosing unless you can see any harm that I could cause with it. Graphic, immediate harm.”

“I cannot see anything malicious that you could do with that information, but Sir was quite emphatic about your ability to lie and deceive.”

“I’m sure.” Loki kicked a wrench off his catwalk seconds after Emma passed under it, watching her carefully. “Let us try this: will you please not tell Stark of this until later?”

“Very well, Mr. Odinson.” JARVIS sounded amused. “Since you said please, I will not tell Sir until five.”

“Thank you.” It was much easier for Loki to be polite to a simple wight than any of the Avengers. He cut away another unsalvageable section of the hull and again watched the reactions to its fall. He was sure that he’d have the data he needed by five.

As it was, Tony himself cut the experiment short. The billionaire watched Loki as a matter of course and he started to notice a reoccuring pattern. The little shit would come behind Emma and drop something - very obviously and deliberately - behind her. Had he done it once or twice, Tony would assume he was being rude. After the tenth time, Tony knew it was no accident and he was _furious_.

Suit Forty-Seven was activated with a touch on his tablet, and Iron Man waited impatiently for it to enclose him. The second it had, he marched out and moved behind Loki. The jotun was holding a piece of scrap metal in the air, and Emma was six feet in front of him. It was obvious that the bastard was about to mock her disability _again_.

Tony grabbed Loki’s shoulder and jerked him backwards, servos whining from the effort of moving the jotun against his wishes. He slammed the fallen prince against the side of the _Maria Beta_ and snapped, “I know what you’re doing. As far as I’m concerned, that violates our non-aggression. So if you don’t stop it right now--” He paused to raise a glowing palm to Loki. “--I’m going to make you _eat_ the next thing you drop. Do you understand?”

“And it was going _so well_ ,” Peter sighed to himself as he heard the commotion and started to run toward the brewing fight.

“Yes, I understand, but as usual, you have no clue.” Loki smirked at the armored human, caring little for his show of strength. _This is too much fun._

Emma, who’d been fully absorbed in her work, caught a glimpse of Peter hurrying across the room. She frowned slightly, turning around as she tracked his direction until her gaze fell on Tony and Loki. _Damnit!_ , she thought as she hurried towards them as well, reaching up to pull her glasses back down over her eyes as she did. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded as she reached them.

“Don’t worry about it, Emma, I have it well in hand,” Tony snapped, his gaze - and all the sensors of his suit - never leaving the threat of Loki.

“Yes, Emma, he knows exactly what he’s doing.” Loki smiled like the cat outside a canary’s cage. “You can go back to whatever trifling thing he let you work on.”

“Don’t waste your breath, Prancer. Unlike you, I don’t get my panties in a bunch every time someone lobs a half-assed insult my direction,” she replied sharply. “Now indulge me. What the hell are you two fighting about _this_ time?”

“We’re not fighting,” Tony replied coldly. “I’m issuing a warning to Reindeer Games, which he is welcome to test or not. Fighting will be what happens when he does test it.”

“Are Emma and I going to have to separate you?” Peter asked as he joined them, looking irritated. He tried to interpose himself physically between the two men but Tony refused to be moved.

“Tony, _please_ stop dodging the damned question,” Emma ground out through clenched teeth. “I had my glasses off, or I wouldn’t have missed the preliminaries in the first place.” She was doing her best to sound flippant, but he could hear the strain of frustration in her voice.

“He was dropping stuff right behind you.” Tony shoved Loki again, just enough to reinforce that the jotun wasn’t going anywhere until he was ready to let him go. “He was doing it deliberately and maliciously. Mocking you, Emma, like making faces at a blind man.”

Loki laughed, a soft superior chuckle, but offered nothing in his defense.

Emma’s face flickered with hurt for a very brief moment, like someone had struck her, but it lasted only a second before fading into thoughtfulness. She found herself thinking back on their argument at Halfway, when Zoe had angrily accused Tony of making assumptions without asking. Her gaze locked onto Loki’s and stayed there for a moment. Then she walked up to them both and reached up, placing a hand on the metal-clad arm of her fellow Avenger. “Let him go, Tony.”

“Who’s the boss here?” Tony still wasn’t looking away from Loki, but even through the digitization of his voice, the hurt and anger were clear. “Last time I got a paycheck, I’m pretty sure you didn’t sign it.”

Her jaw tightened, and because he was looking directly at her, Loki caught the flicker of pain in Emma’s eyes at the coldness of Tony’s statement. She focused on Loki again, debating inwardly whether the petty, manipulative godling was worth any of this. After a moment, she continued. “I’m not telling you, Tony. I’m asking, as a friend. Please.” Her voice was quiet, and for once she couldn’t hide the hurt in her tone either. She was so _tired_ of fighting with him about stupid things.

He curled the fingers of his free hand, then abruptly dropped his foe. _Why the hell does everyone defend this asshole?_  “Fine. Whatever,” he snapped.

“Thank you,” she murmured, but he ignored her and turned away from them. Emma drew in a breath and then turned to Loki, who was picking himself up off the floor. She waited till he’d regained his composure, then she met his gaze calmly. “Why were you dropping things, Loki?”

“Because you kept noticing and picking them up,” he said, his vulpine grin still both mischievous and cruel.

“I don’t understand,” she responded, frustration leeching into her voice. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because,” he reached up lightning quick and pushed her glasses back on to the top of her head, “you were like this.” He said the last few words slowly and clearly, giving her time to read his lips.

Her brow furrowed for a moment as she considered the implication of his words, her mind reaching back to review the events of the day. After a moment he saw surprise flicker across her expression, though it was quickly replaced by confusion and doubt. “Peter, Tony… one of you drop something. Or make a noise, a loud noise. Just don’t let me see you,” she demanded, sounding a bit shaky.

Several feet behind her, Tony punched the _Maria_ , the metal-on-metal contact banging loudly in the quiet room. Emma jumped, startled; the sound, which was much louder than any of the ones Loki had been making to test her, had penetrated clearly through weeks worth of silence. She glanced around at each of them, her expression somewhere between confused and hesitant. "I heard that.”

“It appears that Dr. Thompson is able to hear sounds above 105 decibels,” JARVIS’ voice was loud to the other three in the room and just barely distinguishable by Emma. “Sir, Mr. Odinson requested that I record the decibel levels in the room this afternoon. Dr. Thompson consistently reacted to any noise within a meter of her that was at least 105 decibels or louder during this time. Mr. Odinson, it is now 5 PM.”

“How is that even possible?” Emma replied, sounding a bit overwhelmed. She reached up and pulled the glasses back into place as JARVIS spoke so that she would be able to follow the conversation. "They tested me. The damage was too severe, I shouldn't be able to hear anything."

“See, this is why I don’t trust doctors.” Tony’s dry wit was extra-scathing, still heated with anger. “They say you have cancer, then can’t give you an accurate time of death. You don’t know if you have time to go to Vegas _and_ Ibiza before you get too sick to enjoy it, or if you have to choose. Then half the time they’re wrong.”

She shook her head. "Tony, they showed me the scans and the x-rays. The bones of my inner ear were completely shattered by the blast. Unless they purposely fabricated my test results or there's someone _else_ in Sanctuary that recently suffered massive inner ear trauma and they happened to mix us up, their assessment was entirely realistic."

His suit flew away from him in pieces, and he leveled those brown eyes on her, taunting and challenging her at the same time. “So you can’t heal bones. It’s impossible. I mean, it’s not like you can manipulate metal, either.”

"Well, not naturally." She bit her lower lip as her eyes locked with his, and for the first time her expression began to shift from confused to hopeful. "Do you really think this might have something to do with the nanites? That they might be repairing the damage somehow?"

“We can stand here and speculate, or we can have tests run.” Tony waved toward the door. “It’s five, you’re off-duty, go and see. In fact, as boss, I’m coming with you.” He turned to the other men in the room. “You two put in the overtime.”

“Over what time?” Loki asked Peter.

“It means time and a half pay, except we aren’t getting paid.” Peter rubbed his head as the two of them headed for the door. “Typical rich-man crap.”

~*~*~

"That appears to be precisely what is happening," Dr. Austin replied as she zoomed in on the images. "From what we can tell, the nanites first performed repairs to your eardrums; that's why they initially healed so much quicker than we had expected. After that, they began working on the damage that had occurred to the bones in your middle ear. That process appears to be ongoing, and yet I can also see minor improvement to the cochlear damage as well. If I had to theorize at this point, though I hesitate to do so without further observation, I would say that your hearing started to function again as both the middle and inner ear were somewhat recovered. You have a ways yet to go, but honestly, it's amazing."

“I could say it.” Tony looked far too smug as the doctor finished her analysis. “You know it’s true.”

“Stuff it, Tony,” Emma said, too hopeful to really be upset with him.

Dr. Austin didn’t know him as well and fell right into the trap. “Say what?”

“I told you so.” The two Avengers spoke as one, with Tony full of righteous delight and Emma sighing with long-suffering tolerance.

“So,” Emma continued patiently, her expression mildly amused. “Where do we go from here? Do you just want to wait and see what happens, have me come back as I notice more improvement?”

“Actually, I’d like to have to see a couple other specialists,” the older woman responded. “Though I’m not entirely sure who just yet. I have my suspicions that there’s more to this than just the healing of an existing injury, that there may be implications we haven’t considered yet.”

Emma frowned, her expression changing back to one of concern. “What do you mean?”

“I noticed it during the CT scan, even though it doesn’t really have anything to do with your ears. Here, let me show you,” she responded, standing up and crossing over to the side of the room with Tony and Emma. She reached up and pulled Emma’s hair up and back, exposing her neck and hairline. “You remember the scar you had right here?”

“Yeah, it was from when I was a teenager.” She reached up, fingers running over her neck to search for it. “Someone startled me when I was doing my hair and I burned myself really badly with the curling iron.”

“You’re not going to find it now. It’s gone,” the doctor replied. “I don’t know if it’s just because of the proximity of the scar to your ears or not. Perhaps it’s just collateral healing, for lack of a better term. The only way to find out is to run more tests.”

“Then I guess you’re busy for a couple of days.” Tony turned to her, his expression unusually serious. “This takes priority. Come back to the _Maria_ when Dr. Austin has all she needs.” Seeing the look on her face, he added, “I mean it. The health of any Avenger is vital, so you stay here until the Doc releases you. I’m going back to help Twiddle-Dee and Twiddle-Dum wrap up for the day.”

She watched him leave, trying to come up with a valid argument but failing. He had, after all, played the Avenger trump card. “Alright, Doc. You heard the boss,” she commented drily. “Let’s get started.”


	55. Midnight Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late posting, guys. It's been a heck of a week. ;)

Loki woke with a start, his breath rasping in and out of his mouth. The nightmares clung to his mind, even as he pulled himself into full consciousness. Rolling away from Zoe, he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. Bad dreams weren’t uncommon, not since Thanos had enslaved him, but not these dreams. These had haunted him since the day he’d met Zoe.

 _“The day you met Zoe.” You cannot even say the words to yourself._ Thoroughly disgusted with himself, he silently rose and stalked toward the door, summoning his clothing as he moved. By the time he reached the hallway, he was clad in his usual armor.

The nighttime guards eyed him as he moved through Avenger’s Place but didn’t intercept him. He was given free range of the common areas of that building, at least. Their lack of interest was a blessing; Loki didn’t have the self control to manage civil conversation, and any interaction would likely result in a fight and his removal from Sanctuary or imprisonment.

He wound his way through the city, sliding into the shadows and out of sight at his first opportunity. His feet took him, almost against his will, to a small building on the far side of the cavern. He’d found it by mistake on last evening’s midnight roaming, a common pastime since the nightmares had started to plague him regularly.

The jotun slipped into the building and turned down the wing, toward his destination. He sat down on a small stone bench, staring at the slab of granite that was starting to haunt him.

A whisper of sound alerted him, and Loki rose to face the intruder. Verun stepped out of the shadows, her eyes flicking over the room. He sighed in irritation, knowing that she likely had a better idea of why he came here than he did. “You’ve been spying on my dreams,” he told her tartly.

“Your _nightmares_ have been very loud, Loki,” she gently corrected him.

“Why are you here?” he asked, feeling a wave of weariness.

Verun looked at him, her green eyes calm and compassionate. “I am here because you wanted someone here, even if you wouldn’t admit it.”

“Filthy Vanir telepathy,” he grumbled without rancor. “Always digging into private thoughts.”

“Again I tell you: you have been broadcasting your emotions until I can’t help but hear them.” She turned toward him but didn’t touch him. She was ready to listen but he wasn’t sure he could talk.

“I have a question for you.” He saw her wry grin; they both knew his query would have nothing to do with what was bothering him. “Is it worth loving your mortal, knowing he will die soon?”

Verun leveled a somber stare at him. “I will cherish the time we have together, and I will carry the memory of him, always. Do you not feel the same for Zoe?”

“I try not to think about it,” he admitted, as close as he’d ever come to confessing that he had any sort of affection for her. “Are a few short decades worth the pain?”

“Only you can answer that.” She touched his arm briefly, the tips of her fingers pressing against his sleeve lightly. “But that is not what is hurting you right now.”

Loki sighed again, then leaned forward to brush his fingers over the name carved in the granite: _Steven Grant Rogers_. “He haunts me, Verun. He won’t let me forget.”

“You shouldn’t forget his sacrifice,” she said softly.

“He didn’t even like me,” Loki whispered, swallowing the unasked question: _why would he die for me?_

“That’s who he was,” Verun shrugged a little, her eyes sad. “I doubt he could have not saved you.”

“He shouldn’t have bothered. I would have survived the attack. I’m no mortal, to fall to one of their weapons,” Loki grumped, his expression miserable. “He didn’t need to get involved!”

Verun had not reply to that; she sat for a long time, letting Loki think - or perhaps pout was the better word. Finally, she asked, “What will you do now?”

Loki snorted sharply. “Thor would have me follow Asgardian culture. He would have me take his family as my own, marry his woman and raise his son to do glory in his name.”

“Well,” Verun said, failing to disguise the humor in her voice at his overly dramatic statement, “I believe that both Natasha and Zoe would not like that plan. I think that Thor would be happy if you married just Zoe, and looked after Steve’s widow and son.”

“I’m not sure I want to marry Zoe,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “And I know nothing about how to raise a Midgardian child!”

“Loki, stop.” She gripped him more firmly this time, her expression exasperated. “You know that no one expects you to know that instantly. You have to face the real reason for your feelings.”

She wanted him to _say_ it, but speaking of it would make it real. “They don’t want me to join them or find the good in myself,” he muttered. Though he failed to state exactly who was they, Verun knew he meant the Avengers. “They despise me, despite knowing that Thanos did to me. They will never trust me.”

“You ask for trust in a matter of weeks, and that is not realistic.” She sighed and rubbed the sleep from one eye absently, feeling the loss of rest more deeply with Loki being colossally petulant. “Loki, they _will_ come to believe, particularly if you start acting as if you don’t hate them.”

“Are you going to tell me to behave for Zoe’s sake, like Thor does?” he asked snidely

“No. I’m telling you to treat them as you would be treated.” She shrugged. “Do what you need for your conscious, and they will see, or not. It doesn’t matter what they think of you, Loki, only what you feel for yourself. Your dreams tell me you are not happy.”

“I’ve never been happy,” he whined, scowling at Steven Grant Rogers’ tomb. “Life has not given me the advantages to be happy.”

“Bullshit.” The Midgardian curse flowed from her lips, displaying the amount of time she’d been spending among the people here. “You were born a prince of a magical realm where the people live for centuries, decrying your status to a people that count living a single century as a victory. You made some ill-thought choices, and you need to accept your part in those. Until you do, they’ll never change their opinion, and they’re right to do so.”

“They don’t understand me--” he tried again but Verun rose suddenly, cutting him off.

“Yes, they do. Oh, they may not perceive why you felt as if you were cornered into your decisions, but they are perfectly capable of understanding base jealousy and lust for power.” Her green eyes blazed as she looked down at him. “You killed Laufey, our father, to impress a man who sought peace. Odin had made it clear to Thor: he was done with the violence, and yet you made the same mistake that your brother did.”

Loki stared at her, startled into shocked silence for a moment. “I did not!” he protested, even as a sick feeling wedged into his stomach. “Thor tried to start a war with the Jotun; I tried to stop it before it began!”

“Your father was angry with Thor’s arrogance and blood-thirstiness.” Verun refused to let Loki off the hook. “Why in the name of the Nine Realms would he be happy with the genocide of the jotun? You learned nothing from your brother’s exile, though you certainly out-did him for once in your life.”

“You don’t know Odin,” Loki snarled, standing as well.

“Neither do you,” Verun shot back, drawing her cloak tightly about her. “If you did, you’d know why he was disappointed in you. The AllFather has had his fill of blood and pain. Would that you learn the same lesson.” Turning, she left the prince irritated and seething.

Loki couldn’t agree with her, he was too angry: with her, with himself, even with the Soldier dead in his tomb. Still, her words echoed in his mind and would not leave him in peace.

~  *  ~  *  ~

Zoe woke in a tangle of blankets, some parts of her body suffocatingly smothered under cloth while other parts shivered under the cool touch of air. The bed next to her was empty; she frowned, but it wasn’t unusual for Loki to get up in the middle of the night. Sometimes she could pull him back to bed, soothe him until he could sleep again, but other times he needed to move, to work out the nightmare before he could settle back down.

She sighed and pulled herself out of the bed; nights were getting more difficult for her, as well. She had her share of nightmares, but it was the temperature that kept getting to her. She’d wake up sweating, throw off her covers and go back to sleep, only to wake up an hour later shivering. It didn’t seem to matter what they set the thermostat to. Quietly, she wondered if her tangled DNA were starting to show itself, but she hadn’t had the courage to talk to Loki or anyone else about it yet. _If I’m going to die or whatever, I’d rather enjoy what I have right now. Ignorance isn’t bliss, but sometimes it is better than knowing._

She felt better with her terrycloth robe wrapped around her. Padding quietly out towards the kitchen for a small snack before trying to sleep again, she frowned at the sound of someone speaking just outside Loki’s apartment.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just keep an eye on him.” Phil’s voice showed no strain despite the late hour. “And yes, I’d like to know what he’s doing there, too.”

Zoe pulled open the door and stared at the agent with an unreadable expression. Finally she motioned for him to step inside. “Would you like some tea? Or coffee, if you’re staying up? Sometimes he’s out for hours.”

Phil hesitated, torn between the desire to decline what could be a trap and the chance to talk to Zoe alone, without Loki around. “Thank you,” he finally said, moving into the room. “Whatever you want to fix is fine. I’m not picky.”

A few minutes later a cup of hot chocolate, complete with mini marshmallows and a sprinkling of cinnamon over the top, was set in front of him on the coffee table. Zoe curled up in one of the overstuffed chairs across from the couch Phil was sitting on, taking care not to spill the dark liquid on the cream-colored fabric. “I have a question for you,” she stated softly, her expression still closed to him.

“Of course. I said I’d be here if you needed anything.” Phil sipped cautiously at his beverage.

“Did Zach really sell drugs?” She’d been thinking about it since the first night she’d spent with Loki. There’d been nothing in the SHIELD files; she’d checked when they’d gotten back to Sanctuary.

Now Phil’s face shut down, his expression going carefully blank. “Zach. The young man you were dating in college. He was found with the drugs on his possession. It was a pretty cut-and-dried case, as I recall.”

“I didn’t ask about the case against him. I asked if he actually sold drugs,” she said levelly, not letting her gaze off of him.

Phil readied himself for her horror and further disapproval. It didn’t matter if she knew the truth; she could never prove it. The guy had deserved what he’d gotten, and more. “No. I had an operative plant the drugs on him, paid off an informant to name him to the police, and falsified CCTV footage to place him selling drugs on a street corner twenty feet from a school. Then we registered a website in his name that allowed him to sell drugs internationally. By the time we were done, several countries wanted to talk to him.”

She looked away from him and was silent for several moments. When she looked back, he could see a bright sheen on her eyes. She nodded gravely to him. “Thanks. He was a bastard and deserved that. Not just for me, but the other girls, too.”

“I only wish SHIELD had realized what he was doing before he did it,” Phil remarked softly, taking a sip of his cocoa.

“What else?” she asked, then elaborated, “What else did you do that’s not in the files?” Her tone was curious, not accusatory, an encouraging first.

“I put your audition tape in front of the Portland Symphony Orchestra, when they were looking for new talent to showcase.” His face warmed a touch as he recalled that ‘mission’ had introduced him to Audrey, and all that had come from that meeting.

“So,” she said slowly, tapping her fingers on her mug, “you arranged for all my medical care, sent a guy to prison for me, and got me the job that led to my career.” Her brows knit in confusion and she stared at him, “I don’t understand. If you were going to watch me that closely, do all this stuff, _care_ that much, why didn’t you ever actually come _see_ me? Introduce yourself? _Something_?”

“Even before we knew that HYDRA was still a thing, SHIELD agents operated with targets on their backs.” Phil set down his drink, his brow furrowing. “I never tried to have a family, because I saw the lengths that people had to go through to keep them safe. I also saw what happened when those lengths weren’t enough to protect loved ones. So I thought that the best thing for you and your life was to stay at a distance. If an enemy ever found out we’d helped you, then they’d just see an organization having an attack of conscious about what happened to you. If I’d reached out to you personally, then it’s likely that you would have been used against me long ago. I thought that SHIELD’s impact on your life had been detrimental enough.” He paused again, then shrugged. “So those were my official orders and I agreed with them. I thought it was best for you.”

She was silent for several long moments, then nodded. “Okay. Alright. Then, let’s start over a little bit. I’ll try not to get so riled up every time you say or do something sorta parental, if you’ll try to remember that from my side of things, I grew up without a family. Having someone pop up in your life that knows me like you do and feels like they have the right to try to steer my life, it’s disorienting. I know you mean well, I can tell that now, but it still trips me up to have someone acting like the brother or father I never had.”

Phil smiled, the first real smile of relief she’d seen on his face since their first meeting. “I’d like that,” he told her. “I’ll dial it back to ‘friend of the family’ level, and try to remember not to be too invasive.”

“Then it’s a deal,” she smiled and stood, gathering their empty cups up for the dishwasher. “You’re welcome to stay until Loki gets back, but he probably _won’t_ make you cocoa.”

“I’m not ready to test out the bounds of our truce with Loki around.” He rose, still smiling. “I’m not knocking your choices but in my head, anyone dating him takes some getting used to.”

“So, no family dinner with the boyfriend yet?” She chuckled at his expression. “Good night, Phil.”

“Good night, Zoe.” He left before he came up with a reply to that joke that shattered their fragile new understanding.


	56. Journey to Knowhere

“So have you been able to hear anything else yet?” Clint asked as he scanned through the email summary on Emma’s tablet.

“No, nothing quieter than loud bangs or explosions, or maybe heavy machinery,” she replied with a shrug. “I can hear JARVIS when he amplifies his volume, or a person if they shout, but I still can’t really make out the words.”

“Still, that’s fantastic news,” he said, handing the tablet back to her and giving her a brief, one-armed hug.

“Thanks.” She took the tablet and hugged him back. “Though getting benched for another three days’ worth of tests wasn’t very fun. I’m ready for this mission, I’ve seen enough doctor’s offices for a lifetime.”

“I’m surprised Stark doesn’t have you caged up like a lab rat until all the results are conclusive,” Clint replied wryly.

“They ran tests, they collected samples, they took enough images for at least four different case studies.” She smirked, shaking her head. “They said I’m fine. The doctors found some changes but they’re so minor that they’re not sure whether its the nanites or something natural. The only obvious thing is my ears, but that’s the most severe injury so if I am changing, maybe it’s just focused there for now. My physical aptitude tests came back higher too, but that could be due to training; they’re not sure yet. They’ll just have to wait, watch, and see what happens with the samples - and with me, I suppose.”

“See, that’s why I could never be a scientist,” Clint commented. “There’s a lot of waiting.”

“I don’t feel that way when it’s my own research. But when I’m the experiment, it’s torture. Or maybe the Avenger lifestyle is starting to affect me,” she said with a laugh. “Maybe I’m becoming impatient, like the rest of you. While I’ve been stuck in doctor’s offices, the guys have basically done all they can on the _Maria Beta_ until we get these parts, and there’s no _way_ I was getting benched for that mission.”

“I’m just shocked that Stark has been working with Loki for three days now and hasn’t tried to kill him.” Clint shook his head, his voice taking on a forlorn tone. “Shocked, and I must admit, a bit disappointed.”

“Who’s killing Loki?” Phil chimed in as he stepped into the Avengers’ study. He was carrying a briefcase and wearing his trademark suit and tie, complete with a pair of aviator sunglasses. “Count me in.”

“Now here Zoe was telling me the other day that you two had come to a truce,” Emma scolded, equal parts annoyance and amusement.

“Zoe and I did, yes.” Phil pulled out his service gun and checked it casually, making sure it was fully loaded. “Nobody ever mentioned Loki.”

“Perhaps not directly, but I question the stability of said truce once she finds out you participated in her boyfriend’s homicide,” she replied wryly.

“Might be worth it,” he responded back smoothly, holstering the weapon and concealing it with his suit jacket, but making sure he still gave off the impression of someone carrying. He took another look at Emma. “You look, uh, nice.”

“She looks _fabulous_.” Clint all-but sang the last word with a knowing grin.

Emma glanced over at her reflection in one of the decorative mirrors. She had been limited to what they had access to in Sanctuary, but had still managed to pull together something reasonably audacious for the occasion. A white one-piece swimsuit with a neckline that plunged all the way down to her belly button had been paired with a long, slinky white silk skirt that Jane happened to own. She’d paired it with a chunky gold designer belt and lots of various other gold jewelry. Her hair was worn down, long and wavy, and she’d finished off the outfit with an obscene amount of eye makeup, gold lipstick, and a pair of white high heels that looked like something from a Lady Gaga video.

“Thanks,” she replied with a grin. “Are we ready?”

“Just waiting on us, it appears,” Bucky chimed in from the doorway as he walked in next to Verun. He paused a heartbeat when he saw Emma’s outfit but wisely remained silent. He wore a suit and sunglasses like Phil’s; they had decided to play up the species similarity between the two men. Verun wore Aesir-style armor over a black bodysuit, and she’d also drawn her hair back in a severe ponytail and carried her staff fully extended. The two of them made an impressive pair when standing next to each other, and Emma found herself thinking that between the three of them they made an intimidating, if a bit unusual, entourage.

“We haven’t been waiting long, don’t worry,” Emma reassured the metal-armed soldier.

“Great, then it sounds like you’re ready to go,” Clint interjected. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small fabric bag, tossing it to Phil.

The agent caught it smoothly and shifted it around in his hand for a moment, arching a brow Clint. “Diamonds, really? That’s what we’re using to buy this stuff?”

“Gamora assured us that if we didn’t have any galactic currency, which we obviously don’t, precious gemstones would be the best.” He shrugged, looking as convinced as the rest of the humans felt. “It’s actually a bit of a mix of stones and they aren’t the highest quality for Earth standards, but apparently that stuff is in high demand in other parts of the galaxy, and so we made up for the quality with volume. The Guardians said it should be enough, that most of the things you need aren’t terribly expensive.”

“They were correct,” Verun interjected. “The bag of stones should be sufficient for our needs. If everyone else is ready, I am prepared to use the Tesseract.”

Phil nodded and placed the bag inside his briefcase, then clicked the locks into place. Verun pulled out the mystical cube, and everyone in the room exchanged a glance before the four of them started linking hands. Bucky was the last, placing his hand on Verun’s shoulder as she lifted the cube. There was a brief flash and then they were all gone except for Clint, who shook his head briefly and left the room, closing the double doors behind him. _Glad I’m not Emma’s father_ , he snarked to himself. _It’d be embarrassing to tell her to go cover up._

~  *  ~  *  ~

The quartet appeared on a large platform ringed by guards. The intricate symbol for the Bifrost was etched permanently into the ground beneath their feet, though it was overlaid with other symbols as well, like the one made out of a thin blue glowing line that resembled calligraphy, or another that was a thick but simple band of gold that formed the shape of an octagon in the very center.

“This is the teleportation platform,” Verun murmured quietly as she secured the Tesseract back out of sight. “It’s where anyone who travels to Knowhere through non-vehicular methods is supposed to appear.”

“Great,” Emma replied, straightening up and stepping in front of the others as they were approached by a horned alien wearing something that sort of resembled Kevlar armor. “Do we know how to get to this Taneleer guy?”

Phil and Bucky fell in next to her, each to one side but both a step behind. Verun centered herself behind them, murmuring quietly in response. “Yes, I know his location.”

“Good,” Emma replied as the guard grew closer. “I didn’t want to have to ask.”

“C’mon, move along,” the horned man demanded briskly, gesturing towards the steps leading down. Emma nodded and walked forward, towards the flight of stairs that led to what looked like a meeting station or platform, and then down to the street level. The guard had returned to his previous position, his only interest apparently in keeping the platform clear for the next arrival.

The three humans couldn’t help looking around a bit as they descended the stairs, though Emma managed not to stare too blatantly, and both Bucky and Phil had the benefit of sunglasses to help conceal their startled reactions. Phil tilted his head back towards Verun, murmuring quietly to her. “What keeps the _space_ out?”

The Vanir woman tipped her head back to look out the opening above them into the black void of space. “In truth, I don’t know. Something, as otherwise we’d be dead.”

“Hard to argue that,” he responded, pausing with the others at the bottom of the stairs as Emma glanced back towards Verun. The other woman inclined her head, and they stepped out into the streets of Knowhere, headed in the direction of the Collector’s ruined sanctuary.

They arrived without incident, and Emma breezed through the door airily with the others following behind. A lithe, pretty female alien hurried forward to greet them. She had pale purple skin, long black hair that hung in hundreds of tiny braids, and blue eyes that were disconcertingly large for those not used to dealing with other species. “Hello, and welcome! The Collector is not expecting anyone right now, but I would be happy to take your name and see if he has time to speak with you.”

“Thank you, luv,” Emma replied, her voice switching over to a British accent that none of them had heard her use before, but that seemed to come naturally. She reached into a small pouch, and pulled out a small vinyl troll doll with bright green hair that stood straight up. “Please just give him this, he’ll know what it means.”

The woman took the toy, giving both it and Emma a quizzical look. She had been trained well however, and nodded in compliance before disappearing through a doorway. That left the group of visitors alone in the main chamber to explore.

The inner chamber wasn’t nearly as recovered from Sif's attack as the outside of the building. The man obviously cared more about putting forth an appearance of security than he did getting the interior back into shape, and with good reason. According to the Guardians, he was still working to rebuild his collection after the explosive incident involving his prior assistant and the Power Stone. The main chamber was full of mostly empty viewing containment areas, many of them shattered, like something between a zoo and a museum that had been struck by some sort of natural disaster.

There were exceptions, however, and the group found themselves drawn to them, unable to look away. Hearing a pounding sound, Bucky made his way over to a corner where he found one of the glass containers housing what looked like a small child-like alien. It was crying, tears streaming down it’s delicate, grey-skinned face as it keened mournfully behind the glass.

“Are we sure about this guy?” he asked, a frown etching his features. He kneeled down and placed a hand against the partition, but suddenly the small alien creature railed up, diving at his hand with it’s mouth open wide in a snarl. Sharp, elongated teeth clinked futilely against the glass and it’s long, talon-like fingertips made a scraping sound as it screamed and clawed angrily at the Winter Soldier’s palm. He didn’t recoil from the display. “I know, pal,” he murmured softly, “I got pretty mad when someone locked me up in a cage, too.”

Verun stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, offering silent support. Phil glanced over briefly before turning back to another cage that housed a large and elegant winged bird-like creature that was carefully preening it’s feathers. “He’s supposed to be reliable,” the SHIELD agent replied before moving past the display. “And very good at keeping secrets.”

“Indeed,” the Collector murmured as he swept into the room smoothly, his shock of white hair and deep voice drawing the attention of everyone present. “It is well known, and I am glad to hear that this part of my reputation remains intact.”

“May I introduce Taneleer Tivan, The Collector,” the large-eyed alien announced grandly, hurrying to catch up with her master and sweeping in a low bow in front of him.


	57. The Tocket Summit

Tony straightened up from a crouch, trying to work a kink out of his back without letting Loki see. They’d agreed to work together but that didn’t mean he was going to let the son of a bitch spot any weakness. So far, he’d managed to match the jotun’s grueling work schedule, but it was starting to wear at him. Thank god for Zoe wanting sex occasionally. The former captive would regularly come around and check on her boy-toy, and when she dragged him off to fornicate, Tony would get in a nap. _He’s getting laid and I’m getting a nap. Fuck getting old._

  
He turned around and found Loki right behind him, a bent socket wrench in his hands. As Tony struggled to keep from a high-decibel shriek of surprise, the jotun intoned, “Your tools continue to break.”

“Well, their warranty doesn’t cover use by frost giants, Reindeer. Unwad your panties.” He took the tool from him and brushed past him on the way to the bottom of the catwalk.

“JARVIS, print another twelve millimeter wrench for me, please.”

“Of course, Sir. Estimated time to completion is fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect.” Tony started toward his lab, making a detour to his room to refill his flask. Emma would have leveled a disapproving stare at him for drinking even a little while working, but she wasn’t here. _I hope she’s okay._ He didn’t like that she was running off around the universe - and he was a little jealous - but she was an Avenger. This is what she did. “And who’s fault is that?” he asked rhetorically as he resumed course.

The 3D printer was in his personal lab; there was no way he was letting Loki near that. He’d probably make Asgardian buttplugs and try to pass them off as high art. All thoughts of Reindeer disappeared when the lights came up in the room: one of his suits was spread across the floor in neat pieces. Sitting in the middle of the devastation was Quill’s fucking raccoon. “JARVIS, dial up seventeen for me. I have a rodent problem.” 

The raccoon looked up and bared his teeth at the human. “Yeah, yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before. I swear, if you didn’t all stink differently, you humies would be identical.” 

The suit settled around him. “Get out of my lab before I have a new handbag for Emma.”

Rocket let out a snort. “With these weapons?” he scoffed, waving at the hands of the dismantled suit. “Please. A Korbinite toddler could out-fire you.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Are aliens required to be rude to their hosts? Is that an intergalactic rule?”

“I am Groot,” the plant alien rumbled from a corner, giving Rocket a reproving look.

“What?” the quarrelsome raccoon demanded. “I’m _improving_ it. That’s not rude, that’s helpful! Sheesh.”

“Look, I get it, you’re cute, but what could you possibly know about ‘improving’ my weaponry?” Tony asked irritably.

“Cute?” Rocket’s head snapped up and he moved to lunge at Tony. A long tendril of wood snaked around him, holding him in place. “I’ll give you _‘cute’_ you-!” Another tendril covered his mouth and Groot smiled at the Iron Man. 

“I am Groot,” he said soothingly. 

“Thanks,” Tony told the tree-man, hoping that was the appropriate response. “I appreciate it.”

The sentient plant nodded and slowly set Rocket down among the pieces of dismantled suit. “I will have you know,” Rocket said snippily as he picked up where he’d left off with his modifications, “that I’ve broken out of over two dozen prisons with what I’ve put together from some lights-”

“Wait, how did you get in here?” Tony asked sharply, realizing that somehow the little rat had slipped past JARVIS.

Rocket gave him a sharp, toothy grin in reply. “How’s that for ‘cute’?”

“JARVIS, talk to me,” the inventor said, wondering if Quill would get mad if he throttled his talking pet. _How much does a talking animal go for in space? I’m sure I could cover it._

“Sir?”

Tony took a deep, calming breath as Rocket’s smirk deepened. “How did Rocket bypass your security?”

“No one has bypassed my security, Sir.” Even the AI sounded a little confused.

“Name the people in this room,” he ordered.

“There are three people in this room: Groot, Sir, and Sir.”

Tony blinked and understood in a rush of fury. JARVIS thought that Rocket was Tony. _I am going to destroy that furry nightmare._ Even as murder became a serious option, Tonyfelt a grudging admiration for the monster.

Rocket snickered and said, “Never been called ‘sir’ before.”

The billionaire stared at the fur-covered asshole for a long moment. “How did you convince JARVIS that you were me?”

“Your wiring is sloppy. Code’s pretty good, actually took me most of a couple of days to get that part. Ah, _there._ ” He held up an armbrace of the dismantled suit, pushing several barrel-like cylinders back into the casing. “Now this thing has some _real_ weapons.”

“Ah, no, no, no.” Tony dodged forward and pulled the armbrace out of his hands. “You do _not_ make any adjustments to my suit without asking!”

“Apparently I _do_ ,” the intractable Guardian snarked. 

From the corner rumbled another reproving, “I am Groot.”

“Thank you!” Tony said to the alien, then turned to the science fair reject. “Now, if you have ideas for improvement, we need to talk about them. Also, why doesn’t Quill have you working on the _Maria_?”

“I don’t do bulkheads,” Rocket snorted. “Besides, he’d’ve come and got me once you guys got to the good parts.”

“‘The good parts’?” Tony asked leadingly.

“The weapons, of course.” He picked up the other armbrace and starting pulling it apart with neat, precise movements.

“You know, you remind me of me when I was younger,” Tony said softly, even as he physically pulled the armbrace out of the irritated raccoon’s hands, “before I ended up in a cave. Look, you can’t go around rebuilding other people’s things without asking. I sense that this is a long-term character flaw, so why don’t we have that conversation right now?”

“But your stuff sucks. And I’m bored.”

“Yes, let’s have that conversation now,” Tony said through clenched teeth, “so we can decide what you can do to so that you’re not bored.” _I wonder if I can hire some terrorists to kidnap **him**. I bet that Hammer would love to get his hands on him._ Despite his dark thoughts, Tony knew he wouldn’t do it.

“What I can do,” Rocket answered, picking up another piece of the suit, “is upgrade your toys to something useful when we all go galavanting off to save the universe from Asgardians or Titans or whatever once the ship gets done. Those pebble-launchers you all are using right now are gonna be worthless against anyone smart enough to have made it off their own planet.”

“Yes, yes, I get it. You smart mongoose, me dumb monkey fighting with stick.” Tony rolled his eyes. “I want _specifics_. Upgrades are fine, but upgrades I don’t know about or how they work are not going in my suit. Now, are we clear?”

“Groot’s keeping track. He can tell you all about them.” With an inhuman face, Tony couldn’t tell if Rocket was being serious or just fucking with him.

“Look,” the billionaire growled, “either you tell me what you’re doing, or you can just fuck off.”

The raccoon sighed and pointed to the armbrace he’d finished just as Tony had come in. “That has three different pulse pistols in it. One is sonic, one is pure force blast, and one is an electrical charge. You can switch them out with your fingers, sonic on your pointer, force on your middle, and ring finger for the electrical. Simple enough?”

“See, was that so hard?” Tony beamed at the smaller inventor. “Let’s keep going. What else do you have planned?” The billionaire’s interest couldn’t be faked and Rocket found himself being drawn out into more descriptions and ideas for the suits. When he’d finally milked the smaller mammal for all the information he could, Tony said, “Now, if you’ll come with me. I’m going to get you on the _Maria Beta_ Project.”

“Hey, I already said, I don’t do bulkheads,” Rocket protested. “Come get me when you’re ready for the good stuff.”

“Actually, we are planning for the good stuff now.” Tony crossed his arms. “I’ve already sent people out for materials, but if you suggest something else, we’ll have to risk that again. It’d be nice if you’d come and plan with us now, so that we can prepare for the weapons and systems you’ll want to add. How are you at building defensive systems?”

“It’s called having the faster, bigger guns,” Rocket snorted. At Tony’s look, he rolled his eyes and said, “Of course. Other people have weapons, too. I ain’t Peter. No one’s gonna stop shooting me just to get laid.”

“And that sounds like a charming story,” Tony grunted, “but I’d rather talk about weapons of mass destruction. Namely, ones for the _Maria_.”

“Now you’re talkin’ my language,” Rocket said enthusiastically.

Tony retrieved the wrench that he’d come for and they headed back together, with Groot trailing silently behind them. By the time they reached the bay, the inventor was confused and awed - not that he showed the latter, of course. Rocket’s weapon expertise was so far beyond what Tony had even imagined possible. He kept trying to tell himself that it was because the guy was an alien and had access to advanced technology but the thought still stung his pride.

When he saw Peter, that surly mood took over his mouth. “Quill, why didn’t you bring Rocket into our planning earlier?”

The Guardian spun, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Uh, because Rocket doesn’t do bulkheads?” 

Behind him, Loki drifted toward them, not doubt sensing the coming conflict and heading for it like a shark scenting blood. Tony ignored the jotun as he squared up with Peter. “Yes,” the inventor said, “but even when we’re planning bulkheads, we need input from our weapons designer.” Rocket puffed up slightly at the title he’d been given.

“I did include room for the weapons,” Peter protested, looking to his small teammate for support.

“We are tight for space, Quill. Did you include all the space we’ll need for the support systems? Did you check to see which weapons our weapons expert would want to use, or what modifications he’ll want?” Tony pointed out. 

“It would be difficult to make changes to the ship after we’ve built the outer bulkheads,” Loki said, his tone casual. “It would be best to include Rocket at this stage rather than later.”

“Geez, all right!” Peter lifted his hands in surrender. “I get it. So we’ll include Rocket from this point forward.”

“Anyone else we should pull in now?” Tony couldn’t help but poke the younger man a bit more; it felt good after watching him flirt with Emma and be a smartass young punk. “Is Drax an expert in hydroponics or is Gamora the leading designer on shields?”

He’d meant it as a joke but Peter grew thoughtful. “We should at least ask Gamora. She’s not an expert in any one thing but the bastard who raised her probably made her learn all sorts of things. Her knowledge would be more generalized but. . .” He shrugged. “She might see things we don’t even think to need.”

"Great, we'll tap her as well." Tony paused, smirking at his choice of words despite his personal resolution to reduce the amount of sexual harassment accusations he got. He caught Peter hiding a wry grin and felt marginally better about his own dirty mind. "Anyone else?"

"Verun?" Peter suggested but Loki shook his head.

"Vanir magics are different than the Aesir studies in technology," the jotun explained, "and while she does have operational knowledge, she lacks the mechanical."

"Then we have our team." Tony grinned and crossed his arms, fighting away a momentary pain. Bruce should be here with us, he thought before pushing the sorrow away. "Let's get to work."


	58. Fantastic

Tivan strode towards Emma and she lifted her hand to him expectantly. He reached up and took it, raising it to his lips and brushing them over her skin before locking his black-rimmed gaze with hers. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“We are here for acquisitional purposes,” Emma replied smoothly, her glance flickering towards the blue-eyed alien woman. “Perhaps we could speak in private?”

“Anything that you say to me may be said in front of my assistant,” he assured her, but she shook her head politely in return.

“I hope you will pardon me, Mr. Tivan, but I have heard some stories about your previous assistant.” Emma’s lips lifted at the corner in a small smirk, but her eyes held little humor. “I would prefer privacy, given the nature of the conversation.”

“Yes, I see. An unfortunate incident, no doubt, and one that I have taken steps to assure I will _never_ be at risk of again.” His gaze flickered to the assistant, and with an impatient gesture he waved her away. “Go on, Lista.”

Her eyes widened, if that were even possible, and she hurried away with a nod back through the doorway from which he’d entered. Once she was gone he turned back to Emma and the rest of the group, eyeing them each briefly. “Now that you have your privacy I would know who you are, other than friends of Star-Lord Peter Quill.”

“My name is Dr. Emma Thompson,” the human woman replied, mostly dropping the accent. “We are indeed friends of the Guardians, and are attempting to help them with this Infinity Stone problem.” She grimaced slightly as she said it, implying that she understood the seriousness of the situation, but she continued.

“We are keeping two of them safe, though Sif of Asgard is still in possession of the other two. We have to try to retrieve them, and keep her from getting ahold of the other two as well. It appears she is being mind-controlled by Thanos. I believe you’ve heard of him? Peter thought you might be willing to help us out, all things considered. A galaxy ruled by such a creature probably isn’t the most conducive to… collecting,” she said with a gesture towards his mostly-empty display tanks.

“Yes, I am familiar,” he responded. “And what is it that you need my help acquiring?”

She motioned to Phil, who walked over and sat his briefcase down flat. He unlocked it, popped it open, and pulled out a printed list that he held out to the strange man. The Collector took it and scanned it, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.

“This list is rudimentary, nothing on here is difficult to acquire,” he stated flatly. “Why were you sent to me for these items?”

“Because,” Verun interjected brusquely, “Time is of the essence. The only method of travel that was available to us is likely being watched for by the Lady Sif. That is the reason we were sent here instead of the Star Lord; people were sent whom she has little to no knowledge of and would not be seeking in this matter. We do not desire her to know the items we are purchasing so that she can not trace us back to where we are hiding them.

“I see. Well, that is not an unreasonable request. I can acquire these items, probably within . . .” He trailed off, glancing over the list again briefly before folding it up and slipping it into the lining of his fur coat. “Two hours or so. That should be quick enough for you, I would imagine. And how will you be paying for them?”

Phil pulled out the bag and tossed it to Emma, who caught it one-handed and then held it out to Taneleer by the drawstring. He took it from her and opened it, letting the sparkling contents spill out into his palm.

“We were told that should be enough to cover the cost of the supplies, plus enough to adequately compensate you for your efforts,” Emma commented, watching him visually measure the gemstones in his palm.

“Yes,” he replied smoothly. “Yes, this is fine. I will send someone for you as soon as I have gathered all you require. Do try not to get killed in the meantime. Knowhere can be a dangerous place.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

“So, we’ve got a couple of hours to burn,” Emma commented once they were back outside the Collector’s labyrinth of empty cages and collectibles. “Where does one go while in Knowhere?”

“We could go shopping,” Verun suggested after a moment’s consideration. “Since this place is a safe haven for outlaws, they have a large and diverse bazaar with many different goods. No matter where you go in the galaxy, different things are outlawed by different planets, except for here where almost anything can be acquired for the right price.”

“So it’s the galactic black market,” Phil replied wryly. “Well, we can’t miss that. Of course, we don’t have the money to buy anything.”

“I have money, if there are things we wish to purchase.” Verun held up a unit in her long fingers. “I don’t have many, and it would not have been at all adequate for the purchase of the ship parts we require, but it will serve us for the bazaar.”

“Verun, you had me at ‘shopping’,” Emma replied with a mischievous grin. “Just aim me in the right direction and push.”

“It’s good to know that some things don’t change,” Phil commented dryly as Verun led them away from the Collector’s museum.

They traveled deeper into the city, where the buildings grew denser and the pockets of swirling stars were smaller and harder to spot through the glare of the lights. When they finally reached the bazaar it felt as if they had reached the heart of Knowhere itself. Surrounded on all sides by buildings, walkways, and hovercraft ferries moving between floating docks, it was certainly the place that felt the most alien to any of the humans thus far. The bazaar itself occupied an entire platform unconnected to the ones around it, and they took a small ferry down to it.

“This is fantastic,” Emma commented, her eyes flickering from one stand to another. She couldn’t identify half of the things that were available, and the other half were only vaguely distinguishable, but that was part of what made it interesting.

Verun gave her a little smile and moved with easy familiarity to a booth. Her hand passed over a variety of small stones before sensing what she sought. These ‘gems’ were actually living minerals, and they could amplify or alter psychic thoughts. Illegal in most places, this seller in Knowhere was the only place most psychics could get them. They should help Zoe, and she picked out several before starting to haggle.

Once they were done there they made their way to the next booth, and then the next. Phil was focused and alert but deeply curious, his attention split between the strangeness of their surroundings and the inherent danger that surrounded them. He did pause briefly at a booth that sold mostly small novelties, and picked up a small silver cylinder with embossed carvings all around the outside. When he touched a small button it popped open and music began to spill out of it, light and wistful. The instruments (or whatever was making the music) sounded beautiful but alien to the SHIELD agent’s ear. It made him think of Zoe, and after a brief word with Verun in which he offered to pay her back the equivalent in Earth money or some other sort of useful trade, he purchased it from the seller.

By the time they were finished Emma had also made a couple purchases, though she hadn’t had to use any of Verun’s units to do so. She’d traded off one of her own nicer bracelets for units to spend instead, and had purchased a sort of travel guide for herself full of beautiful galactic art and descriptions that Verun had promised to help her translate, as well as a bottle of some sort of alcohol the Vanir sorceress had assured her wouldn't be overly potent for the other Midgardians. She was also carrying a small bag that when asked about, she merely shook her head and claimed was a gift for someone else.

Out of all of them, Bucky was the one least affected by the wonders of the bazaar. The encounter at the Collector’s museum had left him feeling ill at ease about the whole trip and in a more somber mood. Of course, the bazaar was still a fascinatingly alien place, and he couldn’t help but do his share of observing. For Bucky, however, it was the people that he found more interesting than the items up for sell, and it was that awareness that gave them the heads up they needed when the attack finally game.

“Get down!” he shouted, shoving Phil to the ground just in time to miss the laser blast that had been aimed for the SHIELD agent’s chest. Phil pulled his gun as he hit the ground and fired off a shot at their attacker, a thin, scruffy human-looking man wearing red leather. The bullet hit him square in the shoulder of his firing arm and he dropped his weapon, reeling back from the impact.

“Somethin’ hit me!” he cried out, looking down at his shoulder in surprise as blood began to seep out of the bullet hole in his coat.

“There’s several of them,” Bucky shouted, performing a quick head count of men dressed in similar red outfits, most of them pulling their guns. “Double our numbers, maybe more!”

“Emma, their weapons,” Verun directed sharply, but the female Avenger was already on it. She lifted her hand and waved it, and a couple of the leather-clad gang started in surprise as their guns flew out of their hands and skidding across the ground. The rest of them held on to theirs with ease, however, and Emma let out a muttered curse.

“Damn! The rest must be made out of non-ferrous metals,” she started to explain, but she was cut off as the remaining attackers opened fire. The three humans and the Vanir sorceress scattered, each seeking some sort of cover from the various weapons blasts.

After a moment the blasts stopped. The denizens of the marketplace had mostly scattered, unwilling to get caught up in the scuffle. Fistfights broke out in Knowhere often but lethal combat was a different story altogether, usually resulting in expulsion and banning from the outlaw haven for anyone involved, if they stuck around long enough to be caught.

One of the attackers stepped forward and spoke, his voice loud enough for the three humans and the Vanir sorceress to hear him. “We’re just here for the cube, we know you have it. Give it to us and we’ll let you go.”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Phil called out in return without missing a beat. “You’ve got the wrong people.”

“You ain’t sellin’ me that load of starshit,” the man called back impatiently. “Someone saw you with it when you popped in!”

Verun caught Emma’s gaze from across the bazaar. She gestured upwards, and Emma followed her gaze to the metal walkway a level above them. She reached out mentally, testing the structure’s strength ever so slightly with her abilities, then nodded briefly at the other woman.

“Very well, you have us,” the Vanir woman replied, standing up without her staff and holding up her hands in what was apparently the galactically-recognized symbol of surrender. “I have the cube, it’s concealed in my pouch. I’m going to reach for it now.”

As she spoke she began reaching slowly, purposefully drawing the man’s attention to her hands as he watched to make sure she didn’t pull a surprise weapon. Across from her, still hidden, Emma gave the section of walkway above the majority of the gang a sharp pull with her powers. She let out an inner stream of swear words as her first effort failed, glancing at Verun to see how close she had gotten to the apparent leader of this motley crew. Realizing she only had one good chance left, she focused all her energy on the heavy metal walkway and yanked as hard as possible. It worked that time, and a long section of it was ripped loose from its connectors and tumbled down onto the men below.

At the sound of the commotion behind him the leader of the group lifted his weapon to fire on the approaching woman, but a wave of her hand and Verun had shut him down as swiftly as she had Zoe back on Vanaheim. Bucky and Phil grabbed the opportunity, both of them jumping up from their hiding places and firing on the remaining thugs left standing. Emma revealed herself as well, gritting her teeth and moving her hands as she walked towards them, focusing all her concentration on bending the grated metal walkway until it formed a containment unit around their unconscious attackers.

The four heroes approached the defeated group. Phil kicked a weapon away from the hand of a man who was reaching for it, even as he writhed in pain from his wound. “I think the shopping trip’s over,” the SHIELD agent commented grimly. “Do these outfits look familiar to anyone else?”

“Yes,” Emma replied with dawning realization, “The coats look just like Peter’s.”

“These must be the Ravagers he spoke of, the thieves he used to travel with,” Verun replied. She considered the group for a moment, and then continued. “We should eliminate those that survived quickly and make haste.”

“Wait, what?” Bucky replied, looking a bit startled; a second later, grim comprehension crossed his features.

“They’ll report back to Sif, assuming she’s the one who hired them. They’ll have our descriptions, they’ll know we were here,” she replied pragmatically.

“That’s not how we usually operate,” Emma replied, sounding as stunned as Bucky had looked. She turned to Phil, searching his face for similar conflict, but the SHIELD agent’s expression was carefully neutral.

“She has a point, Emma. They are a security risk,” he countered calmly.

Emma turned back to the group of red-coated Ravagers, her expression unsure. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But I don’t know, killing them in cold blood, it just doesn’t seem--”

“Honorable,” Bucky cut in quietly. “Steve wouldn’t approve, I know that.”

Emma started to say something, but suddenly they heard shouting and saw a speeder full of guards heading towards the marketplace. The red-haired woman grimaced, and shook her head. “Too late now, we have to go.”


	59. Upgrade

She wasn’t sure how long the pain had been there, but it was getting difficult to remember what it felt like to be without it. It changed constantly, sometimes sweeping through her body like a swift Asgardian current, sometimes stabbing into her like the tip of Odin’s mighty spear Gungnir and radiating--

_\--up through her arm and into her shoulder. She cried out and stumbled backwards, her spear hitting the ground as it dropped from her now-powerless grip. She felt an arm catch her, supporting her from behind lest the injury claim her awareness._

_“Sif? Are you all right?” Thor’s voice cut through the haze of pain and helped her focus. She cradled her arm to her chest and opened her mouth to assure him that she was fine, but all she could manage at first was a small gasp._

_“I - I think it’s broken,” she finally responded, through clenched teeth._

_“Surely not,” the handsome young prince replied, a frown creasing his forehead. “I know my strikes are true, but never have I swung so hard in a spar that I would injure someone so!”_

_“Your blows grow stronger every day, your highness,” Hogan commented quietly. The dark-haired Vanir lad was the newest addition to their group of friendly comrades, and still somewhat reserved around the blonde-haired Asgardian prince. He made his way towards them and gently pulled Sif’s good arm away from the injured one to examine it. “It may indeed be broken, see the angle? I think we should take her to the healers.”_

_“Of course,” Thor replied, his voice full of remorse and concern. “Come on, Sif. Just lean on me.” His arm tightened around her, and he began guiding her--_

\--down into a chair. It was cold and hard, and through the daze of pain she felt a stabbing pinch on the side of her throat. She tried to focus, and after a moment she remembered Him. Thanos, her new master that she had crossed the heavens to serve. She remembered how glorious she felt in his presence, how the pressure that had been beating at her ever since the arrival of the staff in Asgard had finally eased.

She opened her eyes to gaze upon Him, but instead it was the dark-eyed, blue-skinned face of her new ‘sister’ she saw gazing back. Nebula smirked at her, reaching up and twisting a strand of the Asgardian warrior’s long brown hair through her fingertips.

“I hope you weren’t attached to this,” she commented smoothly. “It has to be removed, you see. For the modifications.”

“Whatever my lord desires--” Sif began, but Nebula cut her off, the fingertips suddenly gripping the strand of hair and using it to pull her head back as she wrapped her other hand around the warrior woman’s throat. Sif tried to fight back, but there was something besides the pain holding her back and she wasn’t sure what exactly. A sort of drug perhaps, strong enough to affect even her?

“This is not Asgard, and he is not your lord,” the assassin replied. “He is your father now, for he will reshape you to his desires and purposes, and you will address him as such! Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Sif replied, hearing the slur in her voice as she spoke and feeling the world become hazier.

“Good,” Nebula responded, and let go of her. She stood up and circled around her, outside of the Asgardian woman’s field of vision. She tried to track her but her muscles wouldn’t obey. After a moment she felt hands in her hair again, but this time from behind. She relaxed into it, and after a moment she heard a low buzzing noise. She felt the cold slide of metal against her scalp--

_\--and stirred, tossing restlessly in her bed as began to wake. The feeling receded however, and after a few moments she drifted back to sleep._

_She woke the next morning and stretched, sitting up and pushing off the plush bedding of the palace’s guest quarters. They had arrived late last night via the Bifrost bridge and after their report of the battle Thor had insisted on extending them all the hospitality of the palace. There would be feasting tonight, but their arrival had been so late that they had chosen a simple meal of comrades before turning in for the night - all except for Loki, of course._

_“He’s off sulking,” Thor had stated with a laugh as he reached forward, pulling a thigh from the roasted bird laid out in front of them on the table. “Still angry about that jest Sif made, no doubt.”_

_“You’d think he could learn to take a joke,” Fandral replied, sounding equally amused. “It’s not as if he doesn’t say worse things about us, and often.”_

_“It wasn’t a joke,” Sif commented sharply. “It was an observation, and an honest one.”_

_“I didn’t even hear what was said,” Volstagg interjected. His gruff voice held a tone of petulence, for he was always amused by a jest at the younger prince’s expense._

_“She said that if he were half as quick with his blade as he were with his wit, then he would be Odin’s favored son instead of his brother,” Hogun replied quietly. That sent Volstagg into peals of laughter and had Fandral smirking at the memory, but Sif remained silent, noticing a small frown touch the corners of Thor’s lips._

_She could still see that frown in her mind as she stretched awake the next morning. She decided that she would find Loki and apologize to him for her comments. Though the observation had been true the words had been cruelly chosen, and Sif knew that what was spoken in anger against the younger prince would, in time, come to hurt the older one as well. It was as if an actual weight had been lifted off of her with that decision, even her head felt lighter as sat up and glanced towards the mirror--_

_“LOKI!” She screamed his name as she jumped out of the bed, pausing only long enough to grab her weapon. She went bellowing into the hall dressed only in her sleeping shift and wielding the sword with both it’s blades extended, her now-shorn hair sticking out messily in uneven patches across her head. “Where is he?! I’ll kill him! I’ll cut him open and string him up from the highest tower in Asgard!”_

_He materialized in front of her, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Well, well… that’s a new look for you, m’lady.”_

_She dived at him but he flickered out of sight, nothing but an illusion. She turned around and there he was again, a delightfully wicked grin on his face now. “What… don’t you like it? I think it suits you well.”_

_“How dare you?!” she responded angrily, trying to conceal her wounded pride but failing miserably._

_“Quite easily, it turns out. Surely it makes little difference to one such as yourself.” His eyes narrowed and his voice dropped to a low murmur. “Perhaps if you were half as beautiful as you are deadly, you would be more than just Thor’s favored warrior.”_

_She let out an another rage-filled scream and started to run towards him again, but this time she felt arms grab her from behind--_

\--and pull her back towards the table. She felt fear course through her, for a brief moment her mind cleared by sheer instinct and adrenaline. Surely she couldn’t survive any more of these procedures, these things they were doing to her. She reached up to touch her face and felt metal implanted in the skin of her cheeks.

“What - what is happening? What are you doing to me?” She struggled to maintain her composure in the wake of her attempt at escape, for she felt as if she had embarrassed herself somehow in that moment.

“I am improving you,” a deep voice responded, sending a shiver running through her. She opened her eyes and He was there, her Dark Lord. He gazed down at her, his glowing blue eyes shining down at her benevolently. Her face relaxed and she let out a soft breath as the world righted itself again in her mind.

“Of course, Father.” She eased back against the table. “I remember now.”

“Good,” he replied calmly, picking up a small device from the table next to him. He turned it over in his hand, purple fingertips running across the smooth metal as he examined it. Then he flipped a switch and it started to make a humming noise. “You know, you are very fortunate that I have chosen to adopt you at such a late stage. The training sometimes makes it difficult to remember your devotion to me, and it is particularly challenging for someone of more advanced experience. I have found it in the past to be more difficult than rewarding. I trust that you will do your best to justify my decision, however?”

“I will, Father. I am fortunate indeed, and for that you have my deepest gratitude.” She drew in a deep breath, banishing the fear she felt as she gazed at the device he held. For some reason this felt familiar, and yet she didn’t recall why she didn’t remember it clearly from before or why, for that matter, she was so aware of what was happening this time.

“Good. This will be one of your first tests of devotion,” he replied. “You see, up until now I have been sedating you during these procedures so that you do not thrash about in pain and disturb any of the delicate handiwork I have bestowed upon you. However, this procedure requires full consciousness and sensory awareness in order to be performed most effectively. You have been in training for some time now, so it will be your responsibility to hold yourself as still as possible while I perform the update.” He glanced down at her and reached up, brushing his hand over her face lightly. “Are you ready?”

“I am ready, Father,” she replied. He nodded, and she felt the hand tighten on her jaw firmly. He moved the tool closer and pressed it down until she felt the sharp bite of the metal tool against the flesh of her temple. She held herself very still, even as the screams began to slip through her clenched lips.

~  *  ~  *  ~

“You are transformed, my daughter.” Thanos gestured magnanimously, and Sif rose up before him. He was, like the first time she had laid eyes on him, seated in his throne against the swirling vortex of space. This time he gestured for her to step closer so that he could get a better look at her. She did so adoringly, and the stars that surrounded them seemed to dim in comparison to her devotion.

“Deeply, Father,” she replied. Before her training she would have begged for his approval, now she merely acknowledged the greatness of his gifts. It was the proper answer and he smiled in genuine delight.

“Excellent. Then it is time for you to begin your service to me.” He gestured smoothly and from the base of his throne the staff floated down towards her. “I have allowed you to retain the power of the Aether for now, in order to retrieve my remaining Infinity Gems and bring them to me. So, too, shall I allow you the use of the staff.”

Sif caught the staff in her hands, her fingers tightening around it briefly. Then she straightened and stood at attention before him. “Shall I hunt down the thieves who stole the gem from Xandar first, Father?”

“No,” he replied as his chair began to back up and away, floating further from the platform. “I have Nebula looking into that for now, but since they possess two of the stones as well then I wish to improve your footing when you go after them to retrieve them. I am sending you on another mission for now. You must investigate the Kree Swarm, for I believe it may be in possession of one of my stones.”

“A Kree. . . swarm, Father?” Sif tried to hide her confusion, but she remembered little about the Kree, if she had ever heard about them before at all.

“Yes. A creation of the Kree that wanders through the galaxies, eradicating all other sentient life in its path. Destruction is the only goal of the swarm, and yet it is acting. . . strangely. In the past several decades, it has attacked even Kree ships it has come across and has grown greatly in power.” His hand tightened on his armrest, then relaxed. “Track it, and if it has one of my Infinity Gems, then bring it back to me, my Daughter. Bring it back.”

 


	60. Inspired

“So you were followed,” Clint commented, a frown of concern flickering across his features. “And you think they have something do with Quill?”

“Basically,” Emma replied. “We think they were the people Peter said he traveled with before the companions, the ones who took him from Earth when he was a kid.”

“The Ravagers,” Phil interjected. “Space pirates and thieves, as I recall.”

“Looks like they’re picking up some mercenary work these days as well,” Emma commented with a shrug. “I can talk to Peter, see what he says about it.”

“You, uh, you gonna change first?” Clint asked, his grin widening as his eyes ran over her insane outfit again. He’d been biting his tongue since his first sight of her.

She rolled her eyes at him, placing a hand on her hip. “What happened to fabulous?” she shot back playfully, referencing his comment to Bucky before their departure. “Trust me, they wore much crazier on Knowhere. I looked right at home. Besides,” she smirked, giving her hair a toss and striking a pose that showed off the white six-inch platform heel-less high heels, along with a decent amount of exposed calf muscle. “I’m kind of into these shoes.”

“Yes, but you’re kinda almost out of that top.” Clint told her.

“Now, now, Hawkeye, don’t slut shame your co-worker.” Tony was speaking before he cleared the corner, only to stop dead when he actually saw her. “You know, nevermind, Clint. Nailed it in one.”

“Over the line, Stark.” Phil merely leveled a glare at Clint that said as a former SHIELD agent, he damn well knew better than to make comments like that.

“What line? Her tan line? Her bikini line?” Tony took another long, slow look at Emma, feeling arousal even as he mocked her for being arousing. “There are many lines to choose here.”

Emma could sense the heat behind that gaze and felt a zing of awareness run through her body in response, but she pushed it away. She arched a brow at him, drumming her fingers briefly against her hip. “The really thin one that you’re walking right now. We’re good, by the way. Thanks for asking. There was a fight but the mission was a success. Parts have been acquired. I assume that’s why you came down?”

“I came down for the report but I’m staying for the scenery.” He actually wagged his eyebrows at her but there was a hard edge to his teasing. “So where are the parts themselves? Did you stash them somewhere in your costume? Do I get to frisk you to find them? A body cavity search? You can search me, too, if it would make you more comfortable.”

“Now Stark, we brought those parts back just for you,” she replied smoothly, taking a step closer to him. Her tone was playful but her eyes were narrowed and fixed on him, and they seemed darker somehow. “Why would I put them anywhere you’ll never be allowed to access?”

“The thrill of the hunt?” he ventured.

“I’m not a big thrill seeker. It’s usually a lot of effort for only a little return,” she quipped back. “You know, like an amusement park ride - over too quick, and not worth the wait.”

“You don’t know if it’s worth the thrill until you ride it. And by ‘it’ I mean me.” Tony smirked at her. “I mean, I know you’ve ridden my shuttle, but the suit was really uncomfortable. Imagine how much more comfortable it would be naked.”

“And I’m leaving.” Clint caught Phil by the arm and said, “Hey, I’m gonna go do that thing. Wanna do that thing with me?”

“The thing not here?” The SHIELD agent nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that thing.” The two men hastily left.

“Those two need to fuck, like really bad,” Phil muttered as they passed out of earshot.

“You’d think,” Clint said, shaking his head. “And yet . . .”

“And yet?” Phil narrowed his eyes at him.

With a smile, Clint shrugged enigmatically. “You should ask Emma.”

“Or I should mind my own business.” The older man nodded. “Yes, definitely the best thing.”

Back in the room, Emma rolled her eyes at the arrogant billionaire. “I never would’ve picked up on that oh-so-subtle play on words, Tony. Thank you for explaining it to me. The parts are over there, by the way.” She turned away from him and closed her eyes briefly, needing a moment to collect herself and hoping the promise of new alien tech was enough to distract him, at least for a moment. It was hard to think when he looked at her like that, her pulse had picked up and she had a feeling she was giving off the complete opposite type of signal than she was intending to.

Not that the change of angle made the view any less flattering to Tony’s perception. It merely traded the plunging neckline for a similarly designed back, leaving dusky-colored exposed skin all the way down to the base of her spine that was interrupted only by the flow of her deep red wavy hair. The silk skirt clung to the curve of her hips and ass so tightly he could see the faint line of the swimsuit underneath it.

Her back was still to him when he said, “What happened, Emma?”

She let out a small breath, trying to feel relieved that the moment had passed despite the very real ache of disappointment she felt ripple through her. “Oh, nothing major,” she replied, turning back around to face him. “We ran into some Ravagers, at least we think that’s what they were.” She gave him a quick summary of their trip to Knowhere, including the fight with the group of mercenaries and their hurried retreat from the mining colony. “I’m going to check with Peter a bit later, see what he says about it.”

“Ah. Well, thanks for the report,” he said drily, “but what I wanted to know is what happened to _us_? We were colleagues, and friends, or so I thought. You’re clearly pissed at me, but saying you aren’t, but-but you are acting like you are. That leaves me at a loss for how to correct whatever it is that has been done to fuck us up. So. Tell me now, or I’m going to assume you just don’t want that old relationship anymore. Last chance to level with me, Emma.”

“Of course I do! I’ve been trying, Tony!” The words slipped out of her lips before she could stop them, and with that any remaining plausible deniability was gone. She froze, feeling a knot of dread twist together in her gut. _Oh, what does it matter whether you tell him or not? You obviously can’t manage to fake it well enough anyway. Clint was right,_ she realized with a small sigh of defeat. _Sex changes everything._

“We slept together,” she responded simply, drawing in a breath.

“Bullshit.” He looked over her costume once more. “I’d remember,” he started to say, but his expression slowly shifted into realization, “unless I was blackout drunk because we’d just buried the best man I ever knew. Was I blackout drunk when we slept together?”

“You were blackout drunk when we slept together,” she echoed quietly. “I’d been drinking too. Clint came and got me, you were trashing the place. He asked for my help. I didn’t realize… I should have realized.”

“Realized what? That I’m not responsible?” He laughed bitterly. “I mean, I got me drunk, but you took advantage of me. I feel so used.”

She didn’t say anything, but her lips pressed together tightly and she wrapped her arms around her body. It took him a moment to realize that he’d nailed it - she felt _guilty._

“Relax, Emma,” he said wrily. “It’s not like I’m going to press rape charges.”

She let out a short burst of hysterical laughter, and for the first time in this discussion he saw actual anger flicker across her expression. “Yes, that’s what I’m worried about, Tony. The legal ramifications. Let’s ignore the fact that I was four-drink drunk and you were four-bottle drunk, and that of the two of us, I _should’ve_ been the one capable of exercising some restraint but didn’t, and that _I_ feel shitty about it no matter how few shits _you_ seem to give.”

She started to pace, and after a moment she walked over and picked up a half-empty glass of water someone had left sitting on a napkin. She dabbed the napkin in the water and began to rub away the gold lipstick she suddenly felt ridiculous wearing. “Instead, let’s talk about the fact that even completely wasted, you offered to stop and I decided ‘Fuck it, this seems like a good idea!’ and told you not to. Let’s talk about how I complicated a really good professional working relationship by decided that sleeping with my boss was a good way to console him during one of the shittiest points of his life. Or maybe, just maybe, we should discuss how badly I’ve ruined one of my most valuable friendships because I can’t seem to go back to treating him like nothing happened, no matter how hard I try?”

“So. . .” Tony paused to parse everything she’d said. “You want to keep sleeping with me?”

She stared at him incredulously for a long moment before finally managing to choke out a response. “Really? _Really_ , Tony?”

“What do you want me to say?” His anger had finally boiled over. “That I’m pissed about you sleeping with me while I was drunk? I’m not. I wouldn’t have said yes if I hadn’t been drunk, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been on this side of this awkward conversation. Those other women at least _told_ me what had happened between us.”

“You’re right,” she responded quietly, but there was a quality to her voice that was different. “You wouldn’t have, and I’m sure it’s not. I should have told you before. I obviously made too much of it all, I’m sorry about that.”

“Apology accepted.” Tony relaxed and smiled more easily. “However we have some work to do.” As Emma stiffly nodded and started to turn back to the parts. “Ms. Magneto, I meant our relationship. I get that we can’t just magically fix it, but I want you to know that I do respect you. Your skills are beyond awesome, and there’s a reason I pulled you into the Avengers.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Em. People do shit like this, and are okay afterwards. I just have to know one thing: was I good?”

Emotions flickered through her quicker than she could keep them off her face; annoyance, resignation, and relief. _You know the truth now, anyway. There will never be anything between us other than friendship and business._ She could live with that if it meant he still respected her, and any attraction she felt would just have to be dealt with. She settled on cool amusement, which was easy enough with Tony acting like his normal self, and forced the corner of her lips into a wry curve. “I guess you’ll never know now, will you?”

“Actually, if you’ll give JARVIS permission to let me see what happened that night, I’ll have a pretty good idea,” he told her glibly, “and you won’t have to relive what was obviously a harrowing experience for you.”

“I have to give JARVIS my permission?” she responded dubiously, arching a brow. Then she stopped, her expression startled. “You already tried, didn’t you? And you couldn’t? That’s… that’s hilarious.” Her lips twitched in amusement and she covered her mouth with her hand to stop her reaction but it was too late. She couldn’t help herself, she burst into peals of laughter.

“It was Pepper’s idea,” Tony grumbled. “When _you_ wouldn’t tell me, I turned to the one ally I thought _would_ , but it turns out, JARVIS likes to bite the hand that feeds him.”

She was still laughing but she managed to bring it under control. She reached up and wiped the tears out of her eyes, then glanced at him with a devilish smirk, though her voice was as sweet as syrup when she spoke. "Well, you know what happened now, Tony. So there's no need to re-live the whole ordeal. And what other reason would you have for wanting to watch a video like that? After all, it's just sex, right?"

“Yes, but it’s just sex I don’t remember,” he said archly, his eyes twinkling with good humor. “If I came up with a particularly inspired move, I’m going to want to repeat it.”

She laughed, and shook her head. “That’ll just have to be your cross to bear, Stark. Maybe I’ll allow it one day. You know, when you’re old, and grey, and can’t get it up any more. It’ll be my gift to you.”

“I will never be that old,” he promised, his eyes narrowing at her. _I may not be able to keep up with Loki, but I’ll never be impotent._

"Oh, that reminds me!" she exclaimed, and reached for the bag hanging from her belt. She removed it and held it out to him. "I brought you something from Knowhere."

"Oh?" Given her attitude toward him when she'd left, he wasn't sure he wanted her gift. Some sense of propriety kept him from declining sight unseen, so he opened it up and pulled it out. It was a simple ball shaped sculpture, hollow in the center and made up of what seemed like a single strand of metal that twisted around endlessly.

"It's made of compressed stardust," she commented softly. "I figured since you gave me the stars, the least I could do was bring one back to you."

“Cool.” He grinned, half with relief. “I mean, they say we’re all made of stars, but it’s different when you hold one in your hand. Thank you, Emma.” He tucked the ball back into its package and tied it to his own belt. He didn’t want to try to cram that into his designer pants. _They’re full enough already_ , he laughed to himself, then waved to the parts. “So, take me through what we have.”

She debated for a moment whether to try and put him off long enough to go upstairs and change out of the ridiculous outfit she was still wearing, but then she shrugged inwardly and moved over to the desk. After all, it's not like it really mattered much anymore now that they'd clarified where they stood with each other. Surely some of the tension that had been between them would dissipate now.

"Okay," she started, pointing at the first of several alien objects spread out on the desk. "This one is supposed to be for the navigational system..."

As Tony listened to her with more of his attention, a small part of him was musing over what she’d told him. It wasn’t _that_ surprising for him to tumble drunkenly into bed with a woman, and it did explain some of his reactions when she had flirted with other men. It was just as well that he couldn’t remember what had happened that night; it would make it harder to keep her firmly in the co-worker and friend spot.

 _I barely survived losing Pepper._ Tony mentally shied away from those dark memories. _I couldn’t do that again. I can’t let someone get close enough to matter..._


	61. Leonardo vs. Rafael

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, dear readers, it is time for bad news/good news. The bad: we no longer be updating Age of Miracles on Fridays; we're going to a once-a-week update (on Monday). This is for two reasons: one, one of our writers is getting out-of-the-house employment, which means another writer is also taking up more baby duty. Unfortunately this means less writing time all around. Secondly, we've been working on original fiction and will begin posting up a serial novel on our own website here soon. I'll post the link up once we're live over there. 
> 
> We will continue to write and update Age of Miracles, but dropping to the once-a-week update schedule will allow us to build up the buffer we've been racing to maintain these past several months, let us continue to provide quality work as opposed to just quantity, and continue to write/update Bound and work on our original projects. If we hit super productive stride and build a very large buffer up for Age of Miracles, we'll revisit a twice-a-week schedule.
> 
> Thank you guys for your understanding. If you've got any questions, please just post 'em up!

It wasn’t unusual anymore to see Loki strolling through Sanctuary. Most people watched him out of habit instead of wariness now. The exception to that was Security, who got weekly reminders about the would-be invader in their midst by Clint. So when the jotun entered the security building, he immediately found himself at the receiving end of hard scrutiny.

“What do you want?” Bobbi Morse glared at the tall offworlder, her hand on the butt of her sidearm. She didn’t have to look to know that the other agents in the lobby were just as tense as her.

Loki didn’t seem bothered by the sudden attention. “Is the Hawk available?” His lips twisted up in a wry grimace. “I don’t have an appointment.”

“I don’t take them.” Clint stood in the doorway to the back offices, his arms crossed. “I’ve got an open door policy.”

“Very well. May I have a moment of your time?” In contrast to Clint’s aggressive body language, the jotun stood with his hands clasped in front of him. He even managed to look pleasant, somehow.

“Sure, come on back to my office.” Clint took him back to a room with a desk and a handful of chairs. It was not a working office; there was no computer or stacks of paper and a hint of dust hung in the air. This was the place he took security risks to when they needed to talk. It wasn’t a lie, either: he just happened to have two offices. “So what’s up?”

“Tony needs help but I am not the one to approach him on the matter.” Loki looked mildly irritated as he admitted, “He won’t listen to me.”

“That's just shocking.” Had Clint’s tone been any more caustic, it would have warped the varnish on the desk.

Oddly, Loki choose to ignore the hostile tone. “He hasn’t slept in days.”

“He does that from time to time,” Clint said but he sounded thoughtful.

“I know that humans require sleep. At his age, he should be getting a minimum of four.” Loki had been doing some research.

“Look, he’s a grown man,” Clint started only to be cut off.

“He’s dealing with delicate equipment, and the slightest miscalculation could cause injury to himself, others, or worse, to me.” Loki pulled a folded piece of paper from his coat. “According to studies I found, which I have listed here, humans who get less sleep than they need operate as if they are legally drunk. Do you contest that fact?”

“What?” Clint was a little surprised by how off-putting it was to have Loki quoting scientific studies. _Oh, God, he’s **learning** and adapting. We’re all fucked._ “No, I don’t contest it but I trust Tony to know his limits.”

“He’s also emotionally compromised. He has feelings and trauma that he won’t acknowledge.” Loki pulled out another piece of paper. “Your American Psychiatric Association has a great deal of information on how repressing emotions creates stress and leads to physical impairment.”

“I. . .” Clint closed his mouth, then said, “You do realize that you’re the pot calling the kettle black, right?”

“I’m getting sufficient amounts of sleep and I speak with Verun regularly.” Loki pulled out another paper. “I’m also getting sex as an outlet, and he isn’t, which is another problem. The studies on unrequited love are clear of their deleterious effects--”

“Seriously, what the hell, Loki?” Clint wondered if he were having a nightmare. “This is normal for Tony. He’ll work for days straight, collapse for three, then get up and do it again. I understand he’s been working on weapons with Rocket--”

“Who is taking breaks to sleep and eat,” Loki interrupted.

“--and he’s just in manic mode. That’s normal.” Clint finished quickly.

The jotun steepled his fingers together. “He needs proper rest and nutrition, but if I attempt to talk to him, he wouldn’t heed my warnings.”

The archer rolled his eyes. “Again, that’s terribly shocking.” The godling stared at him in silence. Clint knew a showdown when he was caught in one, but he was still the first to break. “What do you want from me?”

Loki relaxed. “Talk to him. Convince him to take care of himself.”

“Are you serious?” The mortal rubbed his hairline, his fingers digging into his scalp. “No one has ever been able to do that since Pepper.” Loki raised an eyebrow with a knowing look. “No, Emma doesn’t have that kind of control over him.”

The jotun smirked. “Lie.”

“Regardless, it ain’t happening.” Clint wasn’t putting Emma through that again. He didn’t know exactly what had happened after he and Phil had left them alone, but judging by what he’d seen of her behaviour the last few days he suspected something had. Loki’s sudden intervention only reinforced that concern. “I’ll talk to him. I don’t know if it will do any good, but I’ll try.”

“That is all I ask.” Loki rose and paused. “At least, for now.”

Clint was no fool; he waited until the offworlder was out of earshot to screw his face into a bad impression of Loki. “At least, for now,” he mumbled in a terrible Asgardian accent, then shook his head. _Asshole still roped me into this bullshit._

Sighing, he rose from the desk and headed for the door. _Might as well get it over with._

It would be a while before he realized he’d missed the most important part of that meeting: that Loki gave a shit.

~  *  ~  *  ~

Peter watched Tony and Rocket argue on the other side of the ship bay. At this range, he couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Loki and Emma didn’t seem alarmed. Besides, it was much funnier to make up shit for them to say.

“You must be mad if you think Leonardo is better than Raphael!” Rocket snapped at Tony, gesturing violently at the human with the trigger mechanism of a gun.

“Leonardo is so cool!” Tony shot back, throwing both of his hands into the air.

“Only idiots who think Emma likes them more think Leonardo is half as cool as Raphael!” Rocket’s brilliant point was punctuated by him throwing the piece down and stomping on it.

“He’s the leader of the brothers!” Tony growled, bending down and snatching up the part. “He’s an overbearing egotist like me!”

“A stick in the mud,” Rocket corrected, “an old one!”

Peter grinned as Tony turned away, prompting the perfect script: “Old! You, you, you’re going to make me cry!”

“Geez, I can’t miss that,” a woman said behind him, and Peter turned with a start. The girl was hot, with long brunette hair, a rocking body, and an adorable smile.

“Oh, no, not me,” he said quickly, hoping that the heat on his face wasn’t a blush. “I was talking about Tony.”

“Okay, that’s not weird or anything.” She didn’t seem upset; if anything, she was really amused that she’d caught him. “So is this an active plan you have, or just an ongoing desire?”

“Bit of both?” Eager to change the subject, he said, “I’m Star-Lord.”

“Uh huh, I know, Peter.” Her grin widened a touch. “I came looking for you. I’m Darcy - I’m on Sanctuary’s council.”

“You don’t look old enough to be part of anything called a ‘council’,” he told her. “That’s for old people, like Tony.”

“I’m precocious.” She turned, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “C’mon, Pete, let’s go somewhere else to talk.”

The view from behind was just as good as the view from the front, and he was more than willing to trot along behind her. They walked through a part of Sanctuary he’d never been before, one with houses rather than offices. A large house was tucked at the end of an alley but with the people going in and out, Peter doubted it was a residence.

The interior was warm and welcoming, but there was definitely a professional atmosphere, both of the people inside and the furnishings. Darcy led him down a hall into a brightly lit office. The room had windows, but they looked out into a sunlight meadow instead of rock. The colors were a professional beige and gold - classy without being ostentatious. The only detraction from the area’s appearance was the stacks of files on every level surface.

Instead of heading to the paper-laden desk, Darcy dropped onto the couch on the opposite wall, waving for him to take one of the chairs. Peter turned it so he was facing her. “So am I in trouble?” he asked lightly, even as the porn music started hopefully in his head.

“Not at all,” she replied, pulling a folder off the pile next to her. “No, I wanted to talk to you privately, about your grandfather.”

“Oh.” Peter blinked, feeling his lecherous good humor fading a bit. “I haven’t really given him much thought.”

She raised an eyebrow but let the comment pass. “Do you want to? No one’s contacted him yet--”

“He’s still alive?” Peter couldn’t have said why he was surprised by this news.

“Yeah, he’s only seventy-something.” Her dark eyes watched him shrewdly. “I would have told myself he was dead, too. It would have been easier than imagining him worrying about me.”

“He was more worried about my mom,” Peter said, irritated at the stinging in his eyes.

“Your dying mom?” Darcy asked softly.

Peter snorted at her gentle rebuke. “I was too little to understand,” he admitted.

“And now?” Her voice was almost teasing.

Her lighthearted way of talking made the conversation easier. “I haven’t thought about it, or him, in years. It’s not like I didn’t know he loved me. I know, looking back, he was grieving and overwhelmed by one of his kids dying. Mom’s cancer was bad, horrible. She looked like a corpse at the end of it. I lost myself in her music. I don’t know what Grandpa was using to numb the pain.”

“You can ask him, if you want.” Darcy handed the folder to him.

Peter opened it with shaking fingers. A picture of Grandpa was right on top, older and wrinkled but still the same. He slid it aside and found a fact sheet, full of information about Michael Quill. “Wow, he still lives at the same house. It’s got to be falling down by now.”

“I’m sure he didn’t abandon it to the ravages of time.” Darcy tilted her head. “It’s not that far from here. Four or five hours, if you do something as mundane as drive.”

“I don’t know how to drive a car.” The second he said it, he realized how ridiculous that was.

Darcy started to giggle after he did, joining the joke. “We can get you a driver,” she said, “or you can wait for him to come here.”

“Grandpa? Here?” Peter’s eyes widened at the mental image of his elder among the larger-than-life people in the underground city. It broke his brain a little. “I’m not sure he’d be. . . happy.”

Darcy leaned forward - giving him a peek down her shirt in the process - and flipped to another page. “Mr. Quill came to SHIELD’s attention long ago.”

The page was a print off of a chat room. Peter read it twice before looking up at her. “Let me guess - Grandpa’s handle was SeekingStarLord?”

“Yep.”

“And he came to their attention because?”

Darcy signed. “Because if someone possesses pertinent information - such as a very good description of known alien craft - and starts sharing it all over the internet, making claims about their grandson being stolen off earth, SHIELD looks into it. In the end, all they could do was make sure no one important listened to him.”

Peter glared at her. “So he’s been looking for me for years, while your people have done whatever they could to stop him. To discredit him. To make him feel like no one believed him.”

She leaned over and put a hand on his arm. “First, SHIELD isn’t ‘my people’. They still owe me an iPod. Second, there were people who believed, but they were in no position to help him. Peter, I know it’s hard. I don’t always agree with SHIELD either, but they did the best they could. It’s not like he could have done anything if people have believed him.”

“But at least he wouldn’t have people thinking he was crazy.” Peter snapped the folder shut. “I have to see him now. I can’t let him go on thinking that he’s wrong.”

Darcy removed her hand and smiled. “Peter, from what I’ve seen of your grandfather, he doesn’t think he’s wrong. He thinks everyone else is wrong.”


	62. Event of the Season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slightly early update, this one brought to you by Malachite and Dawn's insomniatic ten-month-old. >.>

The ceremony was set for a Friday, and the underground city was buzzing with excitement. It had been declared a long weekend for the people of Sanctuary, with a few necessary exceptions, so it was through crowded streets that Loki made his way towards the residential area of the city. He knew Thor had acquired a quaint little Midgardian-style home for himself and Jane to live in after the wedding, and when he hadn’t found his adoptive brother in his rooms at the Avengers’ building this morning he knew where to look.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered as he stepped up to the door. He stared at it for a long moment before he finally released a sigh, and knocked at the home’s entrance.

The door opened and the blonde Asgardian stood in the doorway, staring at his younger brother with a startled expression. “Loki? What brings you here, brother?”

“I’m here to see you, you idiot,” he replied sharply. “Are you going to let me in?”

Thor frowned but stepped back, opening the door for him. Loki strode inside, making his way to the open area that consisted of a dining room and kitchen before he stopped and looked around. “So, you’re really going to do it? You’re going to marry this Jane Foster, even though she’s a Midgardian woman? What _will_ Odin say when he finds out?”

“He knows of my feelings for Jane,” Thor replied stiffly. “He may have councilled me against them, but I believe he anticipated my intentions. Word of our marriage will come as no great surprise.”

“No, I suppose not,” Loki responded, opening one of the cabinets curiously. “These Midgardian homes are small, and strange.”

“We are living in an underground Sanctuary. Perhaps once Midgard is at peace again, we will obtain a home on the surface that is grander. However, this will be sufficient to meet our needs as a couple for now,” he replied, glancing around as well. “Besides, Darcy assures me that Jane will like it very much.”

Loki didn’t respond, but after a couple moments of tense silence he turned around to face his brother. “I have something for you,” he stated simply, his voice a bit tense. Thor arched a brow in surprise at Loki’s words, but his surprise turned to stunned silence as Loki pulled out an elegantly fashioned Asgardian longsword.

“That is our family’s ceremonial sword,” Thor commented after several long moments of staring at it. “What are you doing with it?”

“I acquired it,” the dark-haired prince replied, a bit smugly.

“Loki…” Thor’s voice had a note of warning to it and Loki to roll his eyes.

“Why does it matter?” the adopted brother growled. “Odin shall know why it is gone, I made sure of it. If he doesn’t like it, he still has several hours to come retrieve it from you, now doesn’t he?”

Thor glanced down at the ornate weapon and drew in a breath, then reached forward and took it from his brother. “It is beautiful. I’ve never seen it up close like this.” He looked back up at Loki again, confusion creasing his face. “Why did you do this thing for me, brother? Dare I hope this means that we may begin to settle the rift between us?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I just know how much of a traditionalist you are. Apparently,” he continued with a bit of a sneer, “the Midgardians present their rings on a pillow. Where’s the strength in that? Mother would be horrified.”

“Yes, you are likely right,” Thor replied, watching his younger brother thoughtfully. After a moment he continued, trying to sound casual. “So, they have a custom on Midgard where the bride has maidens and the groom has men who stand with them during the ceremony. There is an honored maiden and a best man, chosen for the closeness of their relationship.”

Thor sat the blade down carefully on the countertop, though it was a long moment before his hand moved away from it. “Steve Rogers had agreed to stand with me. After his death, I could not choose to elevate either Fandral, Hogun, or Volstagg above each other in such a way. However, since you and I have reached a sort of peaceable accord…”

“You wish me to serve as your ‘Best Man’?” Loki began to laugh, but after a moment he sobered. “You’re quite serious, aren’t you? You ask this of me, after all that has happened between us?””

“It would always have been you, Brother, had we not been at such odds with one another,” the blonde prince replied sincerely, meeting Loki’s gaze and steeling himself for another familial rejection. Loki stared back at him for a moment, then shook his head in vague disbelief.

“Very well, Thor,” he replied, subdued for once. “If you wish it, I will stand with you.”

“Excellent!” Thor exclaimed with a surprised smile, and clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder eagerly. “I will send word to Jane. This will do little to change the ceremony, though you will be the one who I will pass the sword off to, and who will present us with the rings.”

“Yes, well, you’d just better hope your feisty Midgardian fiance is still willing to marry you once she sees me up there,” he commented drily. “Hurry up then, go get them. I am sure you have many preparations yet to complete.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

It had been a busy day for everyone, and the actual ceremony had yet to start. Both bride and groom were served meals with their attendants as they readied themselves for the ceremony. Jane had cloistered herself with Darcy, Natasha, Emma and Dr. Jeanette Rosel, a fellow Think Tank scientist that had become Jane’s good friend and her new right hand for research once Darcy had settled into a more logistical position. They were holed up together with a fruit and cheese tray and champagne, fully absorbed in the age-old female rituals of makeup, hair, and clothes that seemed to transcend the galaxies.

Thor, on the other hand, had started his preparation with an Asgardian groom’s ritual. Along with the Warriors Three, who had arrived shortly after his discussion with Loki, he was joined by Clint and Tony in a cleansing, steamy sauna. This was usually attended by married relations and friends who would take the opportunity to instruct the groom in the ways of household harmony and bedsport. Though not married, the two Midgardian men were more than happy to offer their opinions on how to please a woman, much to Thor’s embarrassment and his fellow warriors’ amusement. Bucky and Loki had both been invited as well, but the former had been forced to politely decline due to his metal arm, and the latter had laughed darkly and reminded his brother that his presence would likely only dampen the joviality of the moment and that he would see him at the ceremony itself. Afterwards they were served a savory late-morning breakfast that was intended to replenish their energy from the sauna and carry them through the rest of the day.

By the afternoon, the preparations were finished and most of the population of Sanctuary had gathered together in the underground haven’s central square. It was a beautiful area, approximately the size of a four city blocks and designed by the engineers and planners to be both functional and attractive. The majority of the area was open green space with plenty of room for kids to run and play. It was landscaped beautifully with fruit-bearing trees and winding beds of edible flowers and herbs, and a walking path that made it’s way around the outskirts of the park-like space. Grow lights arced from the ground like delicate sculptures and hung from the vaulted cavern ceiling, shining brightly over there area during select times of the day in order to encourage the the growth of the plant life and simulate the appearance of sunlight. Four wider paths led to the middle of the square and to its dominant feature, ‘the Fountain’.

Part of the city’s greywater recycling system, the square underground pond sported a fairly dense growth of plant life towards the middle where it was deepest. The fountain features that were located in the four corded-off shallow corners of the pond were actually a very small part of the system but the entire water feature had been given the nickname because of Sanctuary’s children, who often begged their parents to put on their bathing suits and go running through the clear streams of water. Finally, over the beautiful green aquatic forest that sprung up in the middle of the pond there stretched a simple rail-less bridge that arced up over the water. Wide enough for at least six people to cross shoulder to shoulder, it was there that Jane had decided to hold the ceremony so that everyone who attended would be able to see them clearly no matter their vantage point.

As the crowds solidified, Thor made his way to the center of the bridge, where he was greeted by Sam. After choosing Sanctuary over the madness of the above-ground world, the former VA counselor had turned his attention to formalizing his education and had become the defacto therapist for many of Sanctuary’s inhabitants who needed someone to air their concerns to. He had also become a good friend to many of them, and had gracefully accepted the couple’s request to be the one to marry them. The suggestion had come from Steve, and Thor had been especially pleased since Asgardian tradition dictated that the ceremony of a warrior’s marriage was to be presided over by another warrior of great esteem. Having fought next to Steve Rogers certainly qualified the quick-witted former airman in Thor’s mind.

“You look great, man,” Sam said encouragingly after glancing over the Asgardian prince’s outfit. Thor was wearing his his red cloak and winged helm that he saved for more formal occasions, and had shifted his armor to match the grandeur of the event by toning down the physical protective enhancements and giving it more of a formal military appearance. He was also wearing Mjolnir at his waist, and had the ceremonial sword Loki had given him strapped to his back. “Very alien prince and all. This is gonna be amazing.”

“I truly hope so,” the blonde warrior replied, looking nervous. “I want this day to be perfect for Jane, she has worked very hard.”

“Everything could go horribly wrong,” Sam commented with a grin, clapping a hand on Thor’s shoulder. “And as long as you still get married it will be the perfect day for both of you. Just remember that--”

Whatever words of wisdom Sam was going to impart were interrupted by the sudden swell of the music, and everyone’s focus shifted off the bridge to a nearby building. The doors had been thrown open, and under the watchful eye of Sanctuary’s inhabitants the bridal party began to emerge, starting with Loki and Darcy. The younger prince was dressed in Asgardian-style finery as well, though he had surprised Jane by acquiescing easily enough to her requests to tone down his normal Asgardian formal outfit and giving it a bit of an Earth-style flair, as well as trading in his outfit’s normal green coloring and heavy gold gilding for simple gold accents and only a touch of his signature color. Darcy’s outfit had been modified last minute to include a couple simple green touches that mirrored Loki’s, which she had jokingly protested due to ‘fear of getting targeted by Stark-mockery’ but had agreed to nonetheless. She was also carrying a golden chalice, carefully cradling it in order to prevent spilling any liquid.

They made their way to the bridge, where Darcy took her place on Sam’s other side to wait for the bride. Loki took his place next to Thor, who unsheathed the sword and held it out to his brother carefully. The dark haired prince pulled out the rings he had been entrusted with, placing them carefully on the hilt of the sword. He then took the weapon from Thor, balancing it carefully across his arm so that nothing would drop.

After the two of them, the bridesmaids and the groomsmen made their way to the bridge in pairs - Hogun with Natasha, Fandral with Emma, and Volstagg with Jeanette. Like the brothers, the three warriors had shifted their armor into more formal Asgardian-styled outfits, though they had agreed to Jane’s request for similarly-styled black outfits with a silver-colored trim. The women carried small bouquets of white peonies and wore nearly-identical Asgardian-inspired red dresses with silver trim.

Finally, everyone was in place and waiting. The music shifted to Pachabel’s traditional Canon in D, and Jane stepped out on the arm of Professor Erik Selvig. Unlike the others, Selvig’s outfit leaned more in the direction of Midgard than Asgard, though his tuxedo still had some touches to it that lent it an otherworldly feel. But people only glanced at him briefly, for it was the woman he accompanied that naturally drew everyone’s attention.  She was stunning in a long, white simple gown that cinched at the waist, then draped and flowed like water almost to the ground. The cut of it was Asgardian in feel, but not completely. Silver thread and tiny diamonds chased their way in a pattern around the waist and down along the side of the skirt, causing it to glimmer in the light as she moved. Around her neck and wrist and hanging from her ears was a set of delicate matching diamond and ruby jewelry, presented to her by Tony several months ago to use as her ‘something borrowed’. The shoes were old, a pair of lacy white vintage heels that Darcy had acquired through eBay somehow. The dress was new, and the something blue was hidden from sight as a surprise for Thor on their first night together. Her dark hair was worn loose, tumbling in soft barely-there waves over her shoulders and down her back, and in her hands was a beautiful tumbling bouquet made of red roses and white orchids.

There was a collective sigh from the audience as they gazed at the beautiful vision their brilliant astrophysicist was presenting them with, but none of their wistful reactions compared even remotely to the joy and devotion that blossomed on the groom’s expression at the sight of her. She made her way to him, a nervous smile playing softly at the corners of her lips, and Erik handed her over gently after pulling her to him for a soft kiss on each cheek.

“Are you ready?” she asked softly as she passed her bouquet to Darcy.

“I’ve never been more prepared for anything in the entire universe,” Thor replied gently, reaching up to brush her cheek with his fingertips.

“Very well, then,” Sam interjected gently, a smile playing gently across his features, “Let’s begin, shall we?”


	63. Afterglow

The ceremony was a beautiful one, combining the parts of Asgardian ritual and western Earth ceremony that Thor and Jane found most meaningful. Selvig’s face glowed with pride and his eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he gave away the bride, and no one present would have dreamed of objecting to the deliriously happy couple when it was offered. Unlike a traditional western ceremony the rings were exchanged before the vows, presented to them both by Loki on the hilt of the royal ceremonial sword. They placed the rings on each other’s fingers, and then together they took the blade from Thor’s brother and held onto it, their fingers intertwined around the hilt and the blade pointed towards the ground as they took turns reciting the vows they had written for each other.

After that came a formal exchange of gifts. Thor went first, presenting his betrothed in Asgardian custom with the key to the home that he had acquired for them to live in together. In return, Jane presented him with a computer chip that had a record of all the research she had ever done in her life on it, for him to safekeep. Once the gifts had been exchanged Darcy stepped forward with the chalice and passed it to them, as Loki had passed them the sword. The chalice itself was simple and elegant, made of gold and filled with Asgardian mead that had been watered down for Jane’s sake. Both bride and groom each took a sip from the chalice before passing it back to Darcy, and then finally Sam spoke the words everyone had been waiting to hear.

“With these vows that have been spoken and acts that have been witnessed by all here today, including at least two representatives of Asgard as is required by their custom, do Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard and Jane Foster, Citizen of Earth known also as Midgard, take each other’s hand in marriage. By the power vested in me by the District of Columbia, I hereby pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

With that, the noble Asgardian prince pulled the beautiful human astrophysicist into his arms and kissed her passionately, wrapping his arms around her waist. She melted into his embrace and the crowd that was gathered around them in the underground garden went wild with delight as they watched the lovers embrace. When they both finally broke away it was with a gasp on Jane’s part and a small laugh as she struggled to catch her breath.

Sam took their joined hands and lifted them, calling out for everyone to hear. “May I be the first to present their royal highnesses, Prince Thor Odinson and Princess Jane Foster of Asgard!” People erupted into cheers again as the new couple made their way off the bridge and into the crowd, calming down only as Thor and Jane made their way through the mass of Sanctuary citizens. As they greeted small groups of people and thanked them, several dozen volunteers began clearing the green areas and bringing in large circular tables and chairs. On each table was placed several platters of food, bottles and pitchers filled with various beverages both alcoholic and non, and various types and sizes of plates, glasses, and silverware. The setup went surprisingly quickly, and before long people were gathered around the tables in groups, eating and drinking, talking and laughing. Off to the side more volunteers were setting up a DJ station, and as people were winding down from their meal Tony stepped up behind it and grabbed the microphone.

“Alright, you crazy bipeds! I want everyone to know that you all have an obligation here tonight. This is the most important party in the whole damned galaxy, and each and every one of you had better do it justice!” The crowd cheered, and he grinned, hamming it up in typical Stark fashion. “But let’s get this started right by introducing the happy couple for their first dance. Thor, Jane, get your royal asses up here and show us how it’s done.”

“Very romantic, my friend,” Thor replied laughingly as he stood up, pulling Jane to her feet and out into the area that had been cleared for dancing. Throughout dinner the outdoor lights of Sanctuary had slowly been growing dimmer, but now most of them dropped to a soft glow that resembled starlight. A spotlight settled on the newlyweds as they reached the middle of the floor, and as the strains of ‘You Are The Best Thing’ by Ray Montagne began to filter out across the crowd, they began to dance.

“Tony, always the hallmark of class and proprietary,” Zoe commented dryly as she sipped her glass of wine and watched the dancing couple. She turned to Loki, who was sitting next to her at the same table as Verun, Bucky, and Emma, and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “You were very dashing today.”

“Thank you,” he replied smoothly, never one to waste time on false modesty. “It was an important event, after all.”

“It’s good that your brother asked you to be there,” Bucky commented. “And that you were willing to be.”

“Well, I suppose that one must occasionally stand with one’s family.” He reached over and took Zoe’s glass from her hand, taking a small sip to try the deep red beverage. It was barely a drink, but at least it wasn’t cloyingly sweet like most popular Midgard drinks. “Today, by marrying the Foster woman, my brother tweaked Odin’s proverbial nose from the opposite end of the Bifrost. Not only that, but he did it in the most irritatingly Thor-like way possible. I could think of no better time. How could I possibly pass up the opportunity to be not only present, but involved?”

Half a dozen eyes rolled around the table and Zoe stifled a giggle. “Well, as long as there was noble and selfless purpose behind your actions,” she teased. _At least he actually called them family. That’s progress of a sort._

“Yes, I was surprised to see Thor in possession of the royal family’s ancestral sword,” Verun commented idly. “I was not aware that your father approved of the union enough to validate it in such a way.”

“Perhaps he did not acquire the sword by Odin’s hand,” Loki replied, unable to resist the opening Verun had provided.

“Tradition dictates that it be acquired from a member of the family,” Verun parried, arching a brow at the younger prince.

“So it does,” Loki responded with a smirk. “Wouldn’t it have been terrible for my poor brother, to whom tradition is so _very_ important, to have to wed without the sword? And all because of our father’s natural-born arrogance and elitism.” He ‘tsked’ softly, shaking his head at the thought.

“Mmn,” Zoe mused with glittering eyes, grinning at her boyfriend. “Good to see that particular trait didn’t pass on to you boys.”

“The galaxy rejoices with you, no doubt,” he countered with a wicked grin, his eyes crinkling just slightly at the corners.

 _God damn, that’s unfair!_ Zoe leaned in and kissed him, unable to resist herself. “No doubt,” she murmured once she surfaced for air.

“You two are almost as bad as the newlyweds,” Emma commented dryly. She looked like she was about to say more, but was cut off by applause as the last notes of the first dance song died away.

“Very romantic, buddy,” Tony teased over the microphone, “but you’re married now, you really should bump up the rating a bit. Don’t worry, I’ll come find Jane later and show you how it’s done.” There was general laughter throughout the crowd, and the billionaire playboy winked playfully at the bride from across the room as JARVIS queued up the next song. “Alright then, that’s all the ceremony I can handle for the moment! Let’s rock this place!”

Emma turned back to the table, picking up her own wine and finishing off her half-empty glass in one swift movement. “Well. According to my boss, it’s the party of the galaxy. Guess I’d better not waste any time.” She stood up, her eyes scanning the room briefly before resting on Peter Quill and narrowing slightly. “See you guys around,” she commented, setting her glass down as she walked away.

~  *  ~  *  ~

Natasha stood by the bar, fingertips playing with the rim of an empty drink glass as she observed the crowd evenly.

“I didn’t send you here on a job,” Clint commented from behind her. She turned around to see him calmly pouring a martini. “You taking orders from someone else these days?”

“Just when do you think I started taking orders from you?” A small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“When you decided it amused you to do so,” he shot back, fixing the lid onto the metal cocktail mixer and giving it a swift shake. He took the lid off and poured it into a clean glass, then dropped two olives into it and swapped it out for her empty one. “You looked nice up there today.”

“Red is not my color,” she replied as she picked up the drink and took a sip.

“Every color is your color,” Clint commented wryly. “Don’t give me that crap.”

She glanced up at him, arching a curious brow. “What’s gotten into you today?” she asked, studying his expression. She was used to Clint joking with her, but there was an undertone of seriousness to it this time.

“Worried, I guess,” he replied.

She waited for him to elaborate but he didn’t, and after a moment she frowned and leaned closer to him. “About what? Security concerns? Has there been a threat? Do we need to take preparations? Oh god, James--”

“Tasha, no.” Clint cut her off, reaching over the bar and catching her hand as it pulled out her phone. “James is safe, everything’s fine. I was just thinking…” He trailed off, looking as if he were about to say something but had changed his mind. Instead, he hopped over the bar so that he was standing next to her. “We should dance.”

“Oh, I don’t feel like dancing, Clint.” She took another sip of her drink and tried to wave him off. “Go on, plenty of these scientist geeks will be falling all over themselves to dance with you. And you should dance with Emma, I think she’s having a rough night.”

“I’m sure I will eventually, she seems to be dancing with anybody tonight as long as their name isn’t Tony Stark,” he observed wryly. “But I’d rather start with you, if you don’t mind.”

His phone beeped with the sound of a text message  and he pulled it out with a sigh as the first slow song of the night began to play - it was Stand By Me, by Ben E. King.

_Don’t blow it, Legolas._

“Everything okay?” she asked, a small frown marring her features.

“Yeah, it’s fine” he replied as he caught her hand, easing her out towards the dance floor. “C’mon, Tash… dance with me.”

She hesitated a moment, her green eyes uncertain. It was so unlike her normal expression that his heart sank. Then she smiled and followed, her hand warm in his.

~  *  ~  *  ~

Peter had thought the dance went well, but then Emma had flitted off to another man. She’d been really flirting during their turn on the floor but she’d left without a backward look. _Talk about your mixed signals_ , he thought with a trace of anger. With effort, he pushed the feelings away; it wasn’t like she owed him anything.

“You look like you need a beer,” Darcy said, dropping onto the chair next to him. She handed him a cold bottle.

“I wasn’t aware that Doctor Pepper was alcoholic,” Peter said drily as he twisted the top off.

“Yeah, I know, but I decided that Helen Cho needed the beer more,” she said without a hint of regret. “Her dream died today.”

“Dream?” he asked.

“Of some Thor-lovin’.” At his look, Darcy waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t feel too bad. She knew it was hopeless. It’s always been Jane.”

Something about her words made Peter take another look at her. “Were you . . . you know?”

She laughed, a bright sound even in the midst of the revelry. “Look at the guy. I guarantee you there isn’t a woman alive who hasn’t at least lusted after him. I am one of those who lusted, in case you were wondering.” She shot him a quick look out of the corner of her eye, while a sly smile curled her plump lips.

His mouth went suddenly dry. “Were you hoping I was wondering?” he asked, unconsciously deepening his voice.

She stifled a laugh at his vocal change. “Maybe,” she admitted, her eyes twinkling with lively good humor.

Peter studied her for a moment. The brunette raised an eyebrow, unphased by the silent appraisal. “Comparing me to Emma?” she asked with a sharp chuckle.

He flushed. “That obvious?”

“No,” she answered, reaching over to pat his hand consolingly. “I didn’t figure it out until tonight.”

Peter frowned as a thought occurred to him. “You aren’t worried I’ll really want her, instead of you?”

“You’re not going to settle for me,” she told him cheerfully. “By the way, we’re ready to talk to your grandfather.”

The sudden change of topic threw him for a second, but Star-Lord was getting a feel for how this woman rolled. “Great,” he told her, showing her the smile that had seduced females across the universe. “So after the party, we’ll go see him.”

“We as in, you and me?” she asked.

He leaned forward, his eyes locked on hers. “You and me. Please.”

“Fine. Because you said please.” She still wore that knowing smile that women had perfected.

“Then, will you please dance with me?” he asked, holding out his hand.

“It’s not going to work every time,” she warned, as she took his hand and rose from her chair, “so don’t go getting any ideas.”

“Ma’am, I live for getting ideas. I was _born_ getting ideas,” he said with a corny smile, then swept her off to the dance floor before she stopped laughing and realized how dumb that line had been.


	64. Show Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a momentous Monday for Deprough and Malachite! Our [website](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/) with our original serial novel has launched today, along with our [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=568042&ty=h)! Please check them out!

“Alright, I have been told that I have to follow some customs,” Tony said as the volume of the music dropped to a background hum. “It’s customary for there to be a mother-son dance. Sadly, Thor’s mother is dead, so he’s asked his sister Verun to do the honors.”

The look on the Vanir woman’s face suggested that Thor had neglected to actually ask her, but she kissed Bucky on the cheek and gamely rose to her feet. She took the godling’s hand and let him lead her onto the floor. “I do not know Midgardian dancing,” she told him as they took their place.

“I know.” He grinned. “Let us show them how it is done.”

Tony’s smile was pure evil as he started the song he’d chosen. Thor had said something to pick something with a beat, and the lyrics did talk about sisters. _No one can blame me._

At the head table, Jane’s jaw dropped as _White Wedding_ started to blare out of the speakers.

Verun blinked at the odd music, but she just whispered, “Eiren and Gudbrand’s Last Stand?”

The newlywed laughed at her suggested dance and assumed the position, squaring off with Verun. With one hand behind his back, he offered the other one to her. The watchers feel silent as they started to stomp in time with the beat. Then they spun around one another like planets in orbit, breaking apart to stomp and clap in unison. It was a dance, and it was a war. They moved toward one another and away, attacking and parrying with their bodies and hands.

Without taking his eyes off of them, Loki leaned over to murmur in Zoe’s ear. “It’s a traditional dance among the Aesir and Vanir. Two of the last warriors in the battle that determined who would rule, the Aesir or the Vanir. The Aesir won.”

Zoe grinned and murmured back, “And they do it to punk rock? _Billy Idol_ punk rock?”

Loki shrugged. “Punk rock is not that different from some of our songs. Someday, you’ll have to hear the _Ballad of Bor._ It is the rousing tale of how Thor’s grandfather defended the Nine Realms from the Dark Elves.”

“Will you sing it for me?” She’d loved his voice when he’d sung at the Tower; she’d promised herself that someday, she’d get him to do a duet with her. “Later?”

He grimaced. “We shall see,” he said, but by now, she knew that meant, “Yes, after I pretend I don’t want to do it for long enough that you appreciate it when I do.”

She hid her smile and laid her head on his shoulder, promising, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

His grimace became contemplative, and after a moment, he leaned down and whispered a dirty suggestion into her ear. “Something like that?” he asked in a normal voice.

Zoe gave him her most scandalized look. “In public? At a wedding? _Loki!_ ” She let him wonder for a beat if she was actually offended, then laughed and bit her lip, looking up at him coquettishly through her lashes. “Maybe later, but only if you sing _very_ well. A girl has standards, after all.”

“I’m aware you have standards. That’s why you’re with me,” he told her with a sharp grin. “And no, I have zero desire to do that to you _here._ I refuse to share my sexual prowess in public, and I wouldn't dream of giving Thor any ideas. Well, not any _good_ ones.”

“Awww, you don’t want an audience?” Zoe laughed. “And here I was told you were a show-off.”

“Only in some areas, Zoe.” He’d spent too many hours being teased for not being physical enough when growing up; he wouldn’t give anyone another chance to assess and mock his body. Zoe didn’t realize the trust he’d placed in her, and he was happier that way. “Sex is not one of those areas.”

She leaned in and kissed him, a tease for later. “Mmm, good. I’m not the sharing kind.”

Thor and Verun ended their bizarre brother-sister dance, bowing to one another before leaving the floor. Bucky met her at the edge, pulling her into a hug. As Natalie’s Merchant’s _Kind and Generous_ started, and Jane and Eric took to the floor for the father-daughter - or at least paternal coworker-bride dance - he whispered, “I have to dance with you.”

There was a fire in his eyes that took her aback; he was normally undemonstrative. “You want to learn Asgardian war dances?”

“No, I want to dance with you my way.” He pulled her into a corner and murmured, “Look into my mind. I’m thinking about it right now.”

Verun knew that men’s thoughts could hold a variety of desires. Bucky was no different, but when his arose, he tried to turn them aside. Most of his baser desires also reflected his growing feelings for her, so it wasn’t just lust-drenched pornography. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see unfettered sexual images of herself in his head. However, he had asked, and she peered into his mind.

It was images of dancing, but unlike any other she’d seen on Midgard. The men and women spun together, in constant motion. It was very similar to what she and Thor had done, but Bucky’s pure delight in that wild movement made her want to do it, too. “Yes,” she said, her voice warming with excitement. “Teach me.”

“I’ll go get Tony to set up the music. Be right back.” He gave her a quick kiss and hurried over to the booth.

The DJ took one look at his written request and said, “We all know you’re old. You don’t have to advertise it.”

Bucky scowled at him. “So I want to hear some music I actually like. Sue me.”

“Okay, I said requests were being taken,” Tony said, shaking his head. “JARVIS, download the song and let me see what we’re dealing with.”

Leaving Tony to deal with the problems of being a DJ for such a varied group, he went back to Verun. They spent a few minutes going over the basics. “I’ll be linked to you, like were in the fight in Tibet,” she told him after they both realized she’d need more than a five minute tutorial. “But I would like to do this with you more.”

“I think that’s awesome.” Bucky swung her up in his arms, grinning. “I didn’t remember how much I missed this until now. Thanks, doll.”

“My pleasure,” she told him, knowing that she’d dance with him every night to see him smile like that.

A couple of modern songs played after the father-daughter dance, leaving Bucky on edge and wondering if Stark would refuse to play the song. Then the first notes of _Hamp’s Boogie Woogie_ blared from the speakers and, with a whoop of delight, Bucky pulled her onto the floor. She spun into his arms and back out, as the crowd was treated to an example of 1940’s swing dancing.

It was obvious that Verun was still learning, but if the Vanir felt embarrassment at her inexperience it didn’t show. They started slowly, picking up speed as she gained comfort with the moves, so similar and so different than folk dances she’d learned. A few other couples gamely joined them, but they couldn’t match his expertise. Steve had once told Bucky that he’d gotten all the dancing skill between the two of them, and the metal-armed men proved that once again.

With the link in place, Bucky dared to try the wilder moves, like flipping Verun around his shoulders and catching her. She moved in harmony with him; it wasn’t perfect but it was the closest he’d come in years. When the last notes of Lionel Hampton’s song faded away, he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. “I love you,” he whispered.

“And I you, Bucky Barnes.” Her green eyes sparkled as she held her mortal close.

~  *  ~  *  ~

Tony hadn’t wanted to act like a morose bastard at Thor’s wedding. He was a good dancer but he had always been more of a mingler at parties, that is when he wasn’t busy being the center of attention. Weddings were hard though, because everyone was acting all sappy and romantic, or at least looking to get laid. When he’d heard Jane was looking for someone to deejay, he decided it was the perfect solution and jumped at it, volunteering to give her the most memorable reception she could possibly imagine. That was months ago, however, long before he’d had any idea what the ramifications would be. How could he have known that deejaying the wedding of an astrophysicist and an Asgardian prince meant spending three hours watching Emma dance and flirt with every attractive man in Sanctuary? More than that, how could he have possibly imagined it would bother him in the slightest?

“JARVIS, finish this song, then pick something for me to dance with Emma to,” he instructed, taking a quick drink from the glass he’d been sipping at through the night.

“Of course, Sir. What type of song would you prefer?” the AI asked, already shuffling through the thousands of songs in Tony’s collection and narrowing it down to options that included Emma and Tony’s musical preferences.

“I don’t know, something good. You’ll figure it out,” he replied as he scanned the dance floor. It only took him a moment to find her - _Thanks, Jane, those dresses are like spotlights -_ where she was dancing with Hogun, and appeared to be trying to tease the serious-minded Vanir warrior into a more relaxed mood. He made his way out from behind the deejay booth and wove his way through the crowd until he found himself next to them.

“Hey, Jackie Chan - mind if I cut in?” Hogun glanced over at Tony with something resembling relief on his expression and started to pass Emma’s hand off to the handsome billionaire, but Emma’s grip tightened and she stayed in the Vanir warrior’s arms.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recall seeing your name next on my dance card, Stark.” She spun herself out and Hogun pulled her back obligingly, but then the song started to wind down and he released her hand and bowed graciously to her.

“Your dancing on Midgard is very… different,” the Vanir warrior observed graciously. Tony snickered, and Emma shot him a brief glare before turning back to Hogun as he continued, “Thank you for sharing it with me, Emma.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, watching him go with a reluctant sigh before turning to face Tony. “So, what did you need, boss? Aren’t you supposed to be working the turntables?”

“JARVIS has me covered,” he replied smoothly, hiding his irritation at the recent nickname. “I’m allowed to have a little fun, too.”

“Absolutely, you should totally do that," she shot back flippantly. "Hey, Jane’s around here, you haven’t danced with the bride yet, right? Don't you still need to try to show her husband up or something? You know, the hot alien prince with abs of steel? I can go find him and keep him occupied for you, just say the word.”

He studied her carefully, scrutinizing the reckless flash in her eyes and the flush of color in her cheeks. She was obviously drunk, but he wasn't even tipsy this time. He reached up and adjusted her glasses gently, causing her to blink at him in surprise. “You’ve been dancing all night. You can hear the music that well?”

“Pretty well,” she responded, her expression softening. “The beat, mostly, but some of the melody, too.”

“No words yet?” he asked, but she shook her head in response.

“No, not yet,” she said, sounding almost apologetic. He held out a hand to her, and her eyes flickered down to it. She hesitated for a moment and the next song began to play. It took her a moment to place it, and then the lyrics of ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ by Ingrid Michaelson starting scrolling down her glasses. _It’s just one dance,_ she thought, her conviction wavering. _Surely I can do one dance._


	65. Green

Across the room, Clint had been watching with growing concern. He’d been keeping a loose eye on Emma all evening, and when he’d seen Tony getting up from the deejay booth he knew trouble was brewing. When he saw him approaching Emma and Hogun he’d started towards them, ducking and weaving his way through the crowd. He was part way there when he spotted Zoe and was struck with an idea. He stepped up to the young white-haired telepath, catching her arm and leaning down to whisper urgently in her ear: “I need your help for a minute.”

She arched a brow at the archer; Clint usually avoided her as if she carried Loki-cootie-plague, so the request was unexpected. “Um, okay. What’s up?”

“If I distract Stark, do you think you can get Emma out of here?” He shot the power-scientists a nervous glance. “She’s pretty wasted, so hopefully it won’t be too hard.”

Zoe gave Stark and Emma her own once-over, pursing her lips at the tell-tale signs of Emma’s intoxication. She nodded as she kept pace with Clint, “From what I hear, you’re in for a hell of the rest of the night for cock-blocking Tony. En-joy.” She motioned for Clint to take the lead as they closed in on the pair.

“Yeah, well. I owe her one,” he responded grimly, but before Zoe could ask for any further explanation he gestured for her to drop back, then pulled out his cell phone as he approached Tony and smoothly interjected himself into the situation. “Stark, I’m sorry to bother you but I need you for a minute.”

Zoe sidled up to Emma and linked an arm through hers; she shot Tony a bright smile and laugh. “Don’t worry, Tony, I need Emma for some of that girl-talk that terrifies the menfolk anyways.”

“Clint, we were talking. Can it wait?” Emma replied with an aggravated frown, not even noticing Zoe’s presence at first.

Tony shot an annoyed glance at the tuxedo-clad archer. “What do you want, Legolas?” he asked sharply, obviously still angry at Clint over their work/sleep balance conversation from the previous day. “Loki concerned about my music selections this time?”

“It’s a security issue,” he informed them briskly, glossing over the other man’s irritation. Stark tensed, instantly more alert. Clint grabbed that and rode with it, though he played it down at the same time for realism. “Probably nothing, a computer glitch. At least that’s what they’re telling me, but I’d feel better about it if you’d take a look and make sure nothing’s been tampered with? I’m probably just being paranoid, but if we were ever going to get hit this would certainly be one of the best times.”

Tony sighed and glanced at Emma reluctantly. She was wearing a neutral expression, though Zoe had been paying enough attention to see a pained look flicker across the red-headed woman’s face. “Yeah,” he replied, “I guess it’s fine. C’mon,” he replied, then turned and walked away, Clint right behind him.

Emma watched him go with longing written across her face, too drunk to keep the poorly constructed mask of indifference up for any longer once Tony’s back was turned. Zoe winced in empathy and steered the magnetic astronaut through the crowd and back towards the Avenger’s Place. She ensconced Emma in one of the sitting rooms on the main floor, stepping away only long enough to procure a glass of water and send Loki a telepathic apology for abandoning him at the party. “Okay, drink this and then you can tell me why Clint thinks you need to be protected from Tony. Did something happen between you two?”

“Clint thinks?” Emma blinked and glanced up at Zoe, as if finally coming out of a fugue state. “Clint thinks,” she repeated calmly, a touch of irony in her voice. She took a drink of the water, then glanced at it with an expression of disappointment and set it aside as she stood up and began to pace. Her expression twisted into something between annoyance and anger, and her voice was dripping with sarcasm when she spoke. “Of _course_ he does! Big brother is _always_ watching!”

“Usually from a conveniently placed air vent,” Zoe agreed sardonically. She leaned forward, her expression sincere, “Emma, seriously, what’s going on? You’ve been so up and down lately even _I’ve_ noticed, and we don’t spend a lot of time together. Hell, even _Loki’s_ a bit concerned about you _and_ Tony, and that’s just getting weird.”

“Nothing,” the drunken Avenger replied sharply.

Zoe crossed her arms. “Bullshit. I’ve been dating Loki, so if you’re going to try to deny or dodge, you’re gonna have to do better than the God of Lies.” She stood up and tried to shoo Emma back onto a couch. “Look, you’re a bit tipsy, I’m a total third party, and I know how to keep my mouth shut about other people’s business. Talk to me. You need to talk to _someone_.”

Emma shrugged her off at first, wrapping her arms around herself instead. When she finally spoke her voice was quiet and defeated. “I’m drunk, not tipsy. And I’m not lying, absolutely nothing is going on. Tony Stark and I have a perfectly civil professional relationship, and that’s the end of it.” Suddenly her eyes flashed angry again, and she focused on Zoe. “And you can tell Clint Barton that the last time he tried to interfere in someone’s life, all he did was fuck mine up. So he should probably give it a goddamned rest.”

“Whoa, I am not Team Clint here. He just asked me to get you away from Stark and the alcohol for a bit.” She narrowed her eyes, an ugly suspicion in her mind. “Is Tony _trying_ to pressure you into something?”

“No! Of course not!” Emma’s denial was immediate and fiercely protective, and then suddenly it was as if that suggestion had broken the facade she’d been struggling to maintain. Her expression crumpled and she lifted her hands to her face and started to sob as the emotional roller-coaster she’d been on for the last several months finally managed to overwhelm her.

Zoe put her arms around the taller woman, and led them both over to a loveseat to sit on. “Emma, what’s going on? I meant what I said. You can talk to me and it’ll always just be between us. Something happened. Can you tell me what?”

Zoe felt her nod but for several minutes Emma still didn’t say anything, she merely let the other woman hold her as she gulped and gasped, tears streaming down her face and onto the shoulder of Zoe’s long-sleeved, classically cut emerald evening gown. Finally she managed to calm down enough to speak, though it was still through soft gasps and the occasional hiccup.

“I wasn’t lying. _Nothing_ is happening. Nothing ever _will_ happen, not ever again. The only reason it happened in the first place was because we were drunk, and Tony made it perfectly clear to me - once I finally told him about it, that is - that it never _would_ have happened if he hadn’t been.” She sat up slightly, rubbing her hands across her blotchy, tear-streaked face. “And if I’m _stupid enough_ to wish it could ever be more than that, that’s my own goddamned fault, now isn’t it?”

Zoe poked at that in her mind, resisting the temptation to use the skills Verun had taught her to just _know_ what was going on in Emma’s head. “Did you tell Tony that? That you didn’t mind what happened and you wouldn’t mind it happening again?” She gave the other woman a half-shrug. “Maybe he’s just a _guy_ and he’s embarrassed that _you_ wouldn’t have slept with _him_ without being drunk. They like to bluster, but men are just as insecure as women when it comes to sex that means more than just a tumble.”

She laughed at that, and actually sounded amused enough that only a bit of bitterness crept through. “Insecure. Are you kidding? This is Stark we’re talking about. You’re dating Loki, so out of anyone else in the galaxy only _you_ might be able to empathize with the amount of ego we’re talking about here.” She shook her head, and leaned back into the loveseat. “Honestly I never got the chance. And besides, even if he wanted to, it’s probably a terrible idea.”

Zoe chuckled at the jab at her boyfriend, but her voice was earnest. “It’s _because_ I’m dating Loki that I say that. And yeah, he’s incredibly insecure about things that _matter_. As for terrible ideas, eh, life’s short. Fuck it. You want him, go for him. Otherwise, cry, get angry, and then get over it. Move on. Life is so _short_ , Emma. Don’t spend it being miserable.”

Emma’s lips curved in a small smile, but she still looked sad. “It’s just so complicated. When I was younger, I would have given anything to work with Tony Stark. I didn’t care about how rich or good looking he was, I cared that he was a god damned scientific genius. And then I got older and I did get to work with him, and it was absolutely amazing.”

She picked up the glass of water and curled up in the cushions a little more, cradling the glass between her hands and taking sips as she spoke. “Of course he had always been handsome, and charming, and flirtatious. But by then he was in love with Pepper Potts and I didn’t care, you know? And he loved the hell out of her, Zoe. You didn’t know him them, I know it’s probably hard to imagine. Losing Bruce was hard, but he was so dedicated to her and when she died it just… it broke him. I don’t know how else to describe it. It broke him into a million goddamned pieces, and by the time he finally put himself back together he was a _very_ different person.”

She drained the rest of the water, and set the glass down on the end table quietly before turning back to the other woman. “Tony’s my boss. I’m a scientist in his employ, _and_ a fellow Avenger. The last thing I want him to do is think of me as just another groupie. He respects me. Maybe if all I wanted were sex it would be different, but…” She trailed off for a moment, looking wistful. “I worked with him for months after the attack on the _Maria_ , just the two of us. There’s nothing as sexy as Tony Stark when he’s working, I’ll say that. He’s intense, and passionate. We may not be the most advanced race out there, but I’d still bet money he’s one of the most brilliant minds in the whole galaxy. How could I help it, you know?”

Zoe let her speak, getting at least some of her emotions out. “Which still leaves the question: what are you going to do? Is he worth putting yourself out there for him?”

“Did you _have_ to put it like that?” the female scientist asked with an exaggerated sigh. “Personally, I thought my ‘Get trashed, flirt with a bunch of men, and then pick one to screw silly to help me forget all this crap’ idea was going pretty well. I was strongly considering Quill, you know. He’s an arrogant, good-looking smart-ass who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Sort of like a younger Tony Stark without all the baggage. I thought it was perfect, myself,” she quipped wryly.

“Yeah, but you have to ask yourself,” Zoe paused for dramatic effect and grinned, “‘Where all _has_ he been and do we have a _cure_ for that?’”

Emma laughed. “You make a _very_ valid point,” she replied, and then began to giggle. “Is that the voice of experience speaking?”

Zoe flushed crimson and ducked her head in an embarrassed giggle. “Oh my goodness, you should have seen my freakout when that thought finally crossed my mind! It wasn’t until I first saw Gamora and - I kid you not - I actually thought ‘Oh god, is Loki’s penis going to turn me green?’”

“Oh gods, what a thought…” she laughed harder, shaking her head. “And hey, I can’t figure out if Peter and Gamora have, you know… so… I’d better not take that chance. It takes a certain something to pull off green, and I’m just not sure I’m woman enough for it.”

Zoe hummed the opening to ‘Defying Gravity’, glad to see Emma relaxing somewhat. Gently, she asked, “Emma? If you can’t decide on Tony, maybe you need to focus on _you_ for a bit. From what I’ve heard, you’ve gone through as much as I have in the past couple of years, maybe more. Knowing who you are, it’s the best way to know what you want. And _who_ you want.”

She sighed, picking up the glass again and turning it over in her hands. She stood up and walked over to a cabinet, setting the glass on top of it and kneeling down. She opened up the door and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, then closed the door as she stood up. “You want one?” she asked the white-haired telepath.

“Mmm, one, I guess. Liquor hasn’t had the same punch for a while,” she moued. “But you should make sure you drink a glass or two more of water before you go to bed. Hangovers _suck_.”

“Sure,” she replied as she pulled another glass out of the cabinet. “Don’t worry, I know where Tony keeps all the good stuff stashed. This is worth drinking even if it doesn’t do much for you otherwise.” She finished pouring and picked up both glasses, then walked over and handed one to Zoe. “And don’t worry, I’ll down a couple glasses before I go to bed, so I don’t run the risk of sobering up before I pass out.”

Zoe took her glass and held it up, clinking it with Emma’s. “Well then. Salud!”

“Salud,” she replied, and took a long, slow drink. “So I should take some time to work on me, huh? Well, maybe so,” she mused quietly. “Now all I need to do is figure out how to stop thinking about him for long enough to manage it.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

Tony flicked off the security feed with a sigh. “JARVIS, send Barton a message. Everything’s fine, no breach detected.”

“Of course, Sir. Is there anything else you need my assistance with?” the AI responded smoothly.

His eyes skimmed the crowd from the deejay booth, searching for the tell-tale red bridesmaid dress, but none of the figures he spotted wearing it were the one he was looking for. He sank back into his chair, trying to shake off the sullen mood he could feel settling on his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he replied acerbically to the electronic assistant, “remind me to update your software or something. Your music selection sucks. What was that sentimental crap, anyway? I asked you for music to dance to. C’mon, pull up something lively. Let’s keep this party hopping.”


	66. Rocket's Got A Gun

He thought he’d get bored after the weapons consultation was done on the _Maria_ , but Stark had a real hard-on for weaponry of any kind. Rocket had found himself with a line of projects to do, all of them related to killing large swaths of people with minimal effort.

At the moment he was deep in a redesign of Stark’s pen-missiles; Groot was off working as an intelligent construction crane at Peter’s request, so the raccoon didn’t even have someone to talk to. They packed an almost respectable amount of power for their size, and he was trying to up their yield with the primitive materials available to them on this backwater. _No wonder Quill never wanted to come back_ , he growled to himself. _No duomite, no quantimite. What a shithole._

The door opened and a woman entered carrying a large container. All bipeds looked the same to him, but this one had been responsible for a boring ceremony and moderately exciting party. “Hey, Mrs. Thor,” he said cheerfully.

She gave him a tight smile. “It’s Dr. Foster, or Jane.”

That was too smooth; someone had warned her about him. _Probably Quill, that spoilsport._ His grin turned wicked. “How was the honeymoon, doc? Satisfying?”

That scored a hit, bringing up a faint flush on her cheeks. “Very,” she said casually, “but I’m here to talk about something more interesting to you than my sex life.” She set the plastic container on the table.

Rocket felt his ears prick, betraying his curiosity. “I’m only interested in two things,” he told her, “money and weapons.”

“Like I said,” she told him, “this is more interesting than me.” She popped the latches on the container and pulled out an oversized weapon. The biped didn’t even know how to hold it properly as she awkwardly passed it over to him. “We need you to find a defense against it.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Rocket said confidently.

“You don’t know what it’s done,” she snapped at him, and he wondered at the sudden hurt in her voice. “We have a metal on Earth that’s called Vibranium. It absorbs all vibrations. This weapon’s beam passed through it, and through a man’s armor, destroying all the organic matter in his chest.”

Intrigued, Rocket held out his hands for it. “I haven’t heard of a weapon doing that before,” he murmured as he cradled the gun to his chest. It was heavier in his hands than he thought it would be, and he started to eye the outer casing for how to open it. “Can I have the vibranium and armor, too? I need to do tests.”

“I’m not sure.” Jane swallowed, failing to hide her grief. Rocket wondered who had been killed by the gun. “Someone else is using them.”

“Can you ask? It’d help. I mean, I need a few days to tear it apart and see how it works.” Rocket found a screw cover and popped it, a little surprised to see that it was a screw head common to Earth. The humie was talking, but he was lost in his contemplation of the weapon. _How’d these apes make something as awesome as this? Well, as allegedly awesome as this._

“Hey!” A hand slapped over the screw, jerking his attention back to Jane. “Are you listening?”

“Nope.” He grinned at her.

“I said, if you take apart, will you be able to get it back together?” Jane hadn’t removed her hand, and Rocket wondered idly if he’d getting in trouble if he jammed the screwdriver through it.

 _Quill would jabber on and on about assault,_ he told himself with a sigh. _Bad enough he won’t let you run off with Stark’s good tools. I mean, he’s rich. And he has lots of stuff._ “Of course I will,” he grumbled, pushing her hand off the weapon - or as he was starting to think of it, His Baby. “Once I’ve dismantled it, I’ll know it.” He ran gentle fingers over the barrel.

“Creepy,” Jane muttered. “Okay, I’ll see about getting the stuff you need for your tests.”

Rocket barely heard her. He was already opening the case on His Baby.

~  *  ~  *  ~

“So how’s it coming?” Peter stopped in the doorway, taking in the dismantled gun spread over the floor. “That good, huh?”

“What are you talking about?” Rocket asked him, dragging himself out of his work with a shake of his head.

“Well, you’ve been here all night, and it’s in pieces.” The humie stepped forward and knelt down to pick up the barrel. “It looks pretty bad.”

“First,” Rocket said as he marched over and took the barrel out of Quill’s hand, “it’s not bad at all. Second, this is the third time I’ve taken it apart. Third, I know how to build another and _fourth_ , this is the copy I made to tear apart and mess with. So no, this isn’t bad.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Where’s the original?” Rocket jerked his thumb at the wall safe, and the space pilot shook his head in disbelief. “You know, they’re not going to be happy that you built another one.”

The raccoon shrugged. “They wanted me to study it. This is how I’m going to improve it without destroying the prototype.”

“Improve? I thought Tony wanted you to build a defense against it,” the humie said.

“I’m doing both.” Rocket looked up when the silence dragged on a moment too long. “Look, Quill, this is exactly the kind of thing we’re going to need when we go up against Thanos. He’s a titan. It nearly killed all of us just taking his minion down. We need some upgrades, especially since we ain’t got the Orb now.”

Sighing, Peter sat down in Groot’s usual corner, where all people who didn’t understand what Rocket did were supposed to remain. He didn’t look happy as he dropped the subject. “So you know how it works, then?”

“I didn’t say that.” Rocket felt his fur bristle.

The humie blinked. “Wait. You could build another, but you don’t know what principles it operates on?”

The weapons genius snorted. “You think Stark knows exactly how his spaceship works? He’s following designs, and so am I.” He lifted a heavy cylinder out of the organized parts. “This is the source of the beam. It creates an unknown kind of energy that disintegrates organic materials. That energy can be focused into a beam and channeled down the barrel.”

“Have you ever heard of anything like that before?” Quill asked curiously.

“That’s the weird thing.” Rocket’s ears flattened in irritation. “This is a unique planet. The people here shouldn’t have been able to produce it.”

“Maybe us humies aren’t as dumb as you think, Rocket.” Peter was far too smug as he spoke.

The modified raccoon snorted. “Give me a break. They haven’t even gotten off their planet--”

“Hey, we’ve been off-world!” the other Guardian interjected.

“To your _moon_ , and even this Stark guy can’t get much further without the ship blowing up.” Rocket ran his fingers over the cylinder again. “Quill, I ain’t being shitty. It’s the truth. The guy who created this is smarter than Stark. I’ve been told he’s the best inventor, so who made this?”

Peter was quiet for a moment. “The builder is probably dead.” He told Rocket the story that he’d been told by Jane, about the assault on the HYDRA bunker. Then he had to tell his companion the story of HYDRA.

“So wait. This Captain America guy was like ninety? No wonder he died,” Rocket grunted.

Peter frowned. “No, I think the last guy was named Steve, just like the first.”

The raccoon tilted his head. “So guys just wear the suit over and over? Doesn’t seem hygienic.”

“It’s not like they don’t _clean_ it between uses, Rocket.” Peter looked annoyed. “It’s the symbol that’s important, right?”

“Sure, whatever you need to believe.” The raccoon dismissed the conversation. Humies were all weird. “I need some more time with My Baby.” Peter raised an eyebrow as Rocket added sharply, “Time alone.”

“Okay, okay.” Peter held up his hands in surrender. “I can take a hint.”

“Not as well as you should,” he grumbled but the humie was already out of earshot. Still mumbling, the augmented individual went back to work.

~  *  ~  *  ~

The raccoon woke up, stiffly pushing himself upright. _Did I fall asleep working?_ It wouldn’t be the first time this week. He stretched with a groan before raking his claws over his scalp. “Need a shower,” he mumbled and headed for the nearest one.

The warm water was heavenly on his fur, and Rocket relaxed under the stream. His mind drifted back to his weird dreams, which had mostly been about His Baby. They hadn’t been good dreams; he been trying to put the weapon back together repeatedly, but each time he was done, there was always a piece left over.

 _Didn’t have to be a head-shrink to know what that dream was about_ , he growled to himself. His failure to learn His Baby’s secrets were starting to annoy him.

He was lathering his tail when it came to him: in the dream, His Baby had kept making a sound. He hadn’t heard it in years, not since the lab, but he’d never forget it. _Could it be the key to Baby’s secret?_ He went over it in his head again. The pieces fell into place and he froze. _Was it that simple?_

Groot looked up in shock as Rocket burst into the lab, wearing only a towel. “It can’t be that simple!” he shouted, virtually attacking his computer’s keyboard.

“I am Groot?”

“Yes, it is! The principle is sound, but how you’d do it is the question!” Rocket tapped a few more keys and rocked back on his heels. “It’s all about energy, Groot, and what they can do.”

“I am Groot.”

I know!” Rocket was almost dancing with glee. “The energy cylinder creates a necrotic beam. I remembered when I was in the lab, they had this machine that would disintegrate flesh. It made this noise, and Baby makes the same whine. Real quiet, I didn’t recognize it until my dream! But that’s it, Groot! That’s how it works!”

I am Groot!”

“No, no. I’m going to figure out how to stop it, then we’ll tell the others.” Rocket cracked his knuckles. “All in good time, my friend.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

The next day, Tony entered the lab he’d given to Rocket to find a row of chairs set up facing two mannikins, both with a string of vegetables around their neck. The test that the augmented animal was setting up was obvious. Jane, Peter, Hawkeye, and Emma sat in four of them. He glanced at Jane, a silent question in his eyes.

“You got me,” she answered with a shrug. “He asked us to meet him here, too.”

“Hey, I had to invite myself,” Hawkeye grumbled. “I mean, it’s not like it was my idea or anything.”

“If I’d known it was going to be a party,” Tony mused, “I’d have brought drinks.” He glanced at Emma, noting that she was at the end of the row and Clint was in the seat next to her. He’d been trying to get her alone to talk, but between Clint, Quill, and Emma herself, he hadn’t had the chance to ask privately how she was doing. Hell, he’d barely been able to say more than ‘Hello’ or ‘Pass me that socket wrench’ to her since Thor’s wedding. He sat down next to Jane, trying not to scowl around the room. “Where’s Rocket?”

“Right here.” The augmented person came in on Groot’s shoulder, as the larger creature hauled in a large cart behind him. The tall alien set the raccoon down in the front of the room, and Rocket pulled the gun off the cart. “Yeah, right there, Groot.” As the tree-shaped alien moved the equipment into position in front one of the dummies, Rocket turned to the room. “Thank you for coming to witness my brilliance.”

Tony rolled his eyes; Jane’s lips narrowed to a line. “What have you got, Rocket?” she asked tightly.

“The answer that eluded all of you.” Rocket turned on the machine and a force field snapped up in front of the model. He hefted the gun to his shoulder and fired.

Tony visibly jerked at the noise; it was the harbinger of terrible memories. The raccoon swept the beam back and forth over the two dummies. Peter and Jane watched as the first manniken’s necklace disintegrated. The second remained hanging, the beam stopped by the energy field.

“So that’s it?” Jane asked. “A force field?”

“Not just any force field. It has to have the right modulations and frequency. That said,” Rocket smirked as he hefted the gun up to his shoulder, “it’s easy to set up. I should be able to put it in Tony’s suit real easy, and get hand-held devices to protect individuals.”

“What about on the macro scale?” Clint asked. “Can it protect all of Sanctuary?”

“Sure, if you have a big enough energy source.” Rocket glanced at Tony. “My schedule’s kinda full, though.”

“If you can provide instructions, I’m sure someone else can handle the actual construction.” Tony’s head was spinning; he’d lain awake many nights worrying about that damned gun. “As a note, though, there’s only one of those things, and we have it.”

The raccoon scratched his head. “Well, about that ‘only one’ thing . . . “ He grinned sheepishly as every eye turned to him. “I have a _bit_ of a confession.”


	67. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, I apologize for our unexplained absence last Monday! I (Malachite) was out of town and while I took my tablet to be able to update, I had computer issues and couldn't. :( So! Here's a Halloween update, and next week we'll update Monday and Thursday as a thanks for your patience and understanding! :)

James Rogers sat by himself, as proud as could be by the simple accomplishment of being upright without help. Grinning toothlessly, he flailed his arms in pure glee, squealing happily. Across the room, another baby started to cry, her little face turning cherry red. The nursery worker scooped the infant up, wrinkled her nose, and headed for the changing table. James watched them for a moment, then turned back to find someone standing in front of him.

He tilted his head back and lost his balance. The strange man watching him moved with lightning speed, catching the boy and picking him up. James blinked at the green eyes and high-boned face in front of him, a finger in his mouth.

The two considered each other for a long moment, the baby looking as unsure of the situation as the exiled prince of Asgard was. Loki stared at the child, feeling his weight in his arm. He waited for the baby to decide what to do, half expecting the screaming and tears to start.

James grinned suddenly and reached for Loki’s cheek. That would have been fine, save that the hand he reached with was wet with saliva. Wincing, the godling pulled his head away, only to have James wiggle and try to touch him. “Babies are disgusting,” he told the boy, which only made the infant smile more widely.

Grimacing, Loki sat down and put the child in front of him. “You’re as persistent as your mother. I suppose it must be genetic.” James stuck his fingers in his mouth again, blue eyes wide. “Why are you staring?” The baby became distracted by his toes and the way they looked against the dark carpet.

Across the room, the worker was finishing the diaper change, cooing at the still-distraught baby. Loki glanced at her and pulled his gifts out of his belt pouch. He waved his hand over them, vitalizing them with a quick gesture. “Here. These are similar to the toys I had as a babe,” he said, handing over the wooden animals. “You do not have to share them with the other children. They are yours.”

James took the red wolf and popped its head in his mouth. Loki smiled at the acceptance of his gift, then vanished from sight. The nursery worker glanced over and smiled to see James playing contentedly in the corner; then a toddler tripped and started to wail, and she gave Natasha’s son no more thought.

~  *  ~  *  ~

Part of her had considered being a stay-at-home mom, but Natasha knew herself better that that. She’d drive herself and James crazy if she wasn’t working. She didn’t have misplaced guilt over not being a ‘good mom’ either. She was comfortable with her skills.

She was still relieved at the end of a long day when she could pick James up and spend a couple of hours with him. Tonight, Clint was making dinner for both of them.

The assassin arrived behind a harried father who was picking up three kids. She stood back while he attempted to corral all of them out the door, but the two youngest were each determined to take one of the toys with them. Natasha slipped past him when the poor man’s toddler collapsed to the floor screaming at his father’s injustice.

James didn’t look up when knelt next to him, totally engrossed in his toys. “What do you have there, spawn?” she asked softly, smiling and drinking him in with her eyes. A motion caught her attention and she glanced at the toy on his knee.

The silver raven stood carefully on the mound of his joint. As Natasha stared, the wooden toy moved, spreading its wings for balance. It tilted its head and stared at her with red eyes. On the floor between his legs, a red wolf chased its tail and comically fell over, making her son squeal with delight.

Her mind had no sooner thought, _That’s not right_ before she lashed out and knocked the bird off her son. The wolf yelped in surprise and tried to hide under her son’s leg. Natasha snatched him up and stood up, kicking the things away. Something wiggled by her ear and she looked at James again. A green snake was coiled around his shoulders. She ripped it away and dropped it to the floor.

James sensed something was wrong and started to cry; Natasha pulled him close and dashed out of the room.

When she looked back, they were following her.

She ran faster, with only one thought: to get them away from her baby.

~  *  ~  *  ~

Loki glanced up as the door to his quarters slammed open. Clint, Natasha, and Tony marched into the room, their faces filled with fury. His heart sank at the clear suspicion in their eyes. “What do you think I’ve done now?” he sighed as he rose from his chair, setting his book aside.

“Shut up.” Clint planted a hand in his chest and shoved; Loki fell back into his seat more out of surprise than being overpowered.

Anger coiled in his chest; anger at them for treating him so disrespectfully and fury at himself for believing that he was making progress. “Am I to be told of my crimes?” he asked, his lip curling in distaste.

“Stay away from my son,” Natasha hissed and threw a plastic bag at him.

He caught the wriggling sack, knowing what was in it but looking anyway. The toys gazed up at him in mute misery; he had aligned them to James and they wanted nothing more than to be with the child. “I see you didn’t like my gifts,” he said drily.

She almost hit him, turning away in anger, she hissed, “Fuck you, Loki.”

Clint took up where she left off. “Don’t approach James anymore. Stay away from him, you understand?”

Loki summoned all his dignity and snapped, “Yes, this despicable toy-giving villain understands.” He glanced at Tony. “What would you like to add to this witchtrial, Tony?”

“Don’t,” the billionaire said sharply. “Don’t paint yourself as the victim. Natasha has a right to determine what toys are given to her kid. You should have asked her permission.”

“I was unaware that was a custom when giving gifts in Midgard.” Loki gave Tony a bitter smile. “I shall ask before committing such a sin in the future.”

“Just leave us alone,” Natasha said from her spot by the door. “Isn’t it enough you took Steve from us?”

Her words pounded in his ears. Clint was saying something else but all her could hear was her voice, slamming into his heart like a storm against a pier. He surged to his feet and said, “Enough that Rogers died for me? What makes you think that I can consider anything else?”

“What are you talking about?” Tony growled.

“You speak as if I’ve forgotten that Rogers died for me.” Loki stared at Natasha. “You talk as if his death means _nothing_! Nothing to the man he _died for_!”

“How can it mean anything to you?” Clint asked. “You don’t care about us mortals!”

“Yes, you know _everything_ about me, despite never speaking to me,” Loki snapped at the man.

“What, you trying to claim that you love us now?” Tony asked.

“You speak of love with such ease.” Loki turned on him. “You lost the woman you loved and it has eaten you so badly you can’t see when it’s offered to you again. You would rather pretend nothing touches you than admit what pain you live in. But yes, please judge _me_ on the feelings you refuse to admit.”

“What is _that_ supposed to me?” Tony snapped, drawing even with Loki.

The jotun locked gazes with the billionaire. “Emma.”

Clint held up a hand and tried to intercept as Tony froze. “Whoa, now--”

“What? Shall you protect him?” Loki reoriented his attack on the archer. “You have little room to speak on his matter--”

Clint hit him across the face. It was in truth a punch but it didn’t even move the godling. He tilted his head and stared at him. “Don’t speak to me of love, any of you.”

“I wouldn’t believe you if you did claim it,” Natasha added, her voice cold as a Russian winter.

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that,” Loki told her.

“Then why would you give my son toys?” she asked. “What trick are you pulling?”

“Did it ever occur to any of you that there are other motivations than love?” he stared at each of them in turn. “There are other things that obligate us to one another.”

“All you know how to do is kill and destroy and lie,” Clint snarled. “That is all you can do, Loki.”

Something in him snapped. “You talk and talk about me as if you know, but in truth, the only person who knows me is Zoe! She’s the only one who cared enough to speak _to_ me and not at me, to ask me instead of telling me!

“Natasha, you want to know why I gave James toys?” Loki’s fists clenched tightly shut. “I gave him the toys I loved most as a child, toys that wanted nothing more than to make me happy. His father is gone, but not by my choice or will. Steven Rogers gave his life for mine, and I would undo that choice if I could.”

“You die for Steve.” Clint audibly snorted. “Yeah, pull the other one.”

“Do you think I like being indebted to him?” Loki threw his arms out. “What story of me makes you think I enjoy watching over his family?”

“What the fuck are you _talking_ about?” Clint snarled.

“Rogers gave his life for me, and now I must help those he loved and left behind.” Loki spat the words. “Don’t you think it galls me to know that a mere mortal gave me the gift of my life? Perhaps you could walk away, but I have stronger morals than that.”

Natasha opened her mouth but Clint cut her off. “Oh, bullshit. That is pure bullshit!”

He wasn’t aware that he was moving until his hands were on the table. It had been more impressive when Thor had flipped over the dining table; this one wasn’t heavy, but as the books and dishes hit the floor, the three humans backed away. Her voice was icy despite the raging inferno in him. “Do not impugn my character when you don’t know it. Not that it matters.

“Come, let us talk honestly with one another.” The jotun sneered at them as he spoke. “It doesn’t matter what I do or say. It’s a fool belief to hope that I could show that I’m not just a black-hearted villain, and I am no fool. I could guard this planet a hundred years, I could personally save each of your lives, and nothing will change.

“You don’t want it to change. You want to hate me.” He snatched up the bag of toys. “I gave the babe _toys_! I gave him objects to play with, and had anyone else done it, you would have smiled and thanked them, Black Widow. You are the hypocrites here; you are the ones in the wrong, but never will you admit it.”

“Give me the damn toys.” Natasha held out her hand.

“Nat--”

“Shut up, Clint.” She hadn’t looked away from Loki, and her next words were to him. “I’m going to take those to Verun, and if she says their safe, then I’ll give them to James.”

“The only magic you will find on them is an animation spell and another to link them to James.” He dropped the handles of the sack over her fingers. “They’ll be unhappy when not with him.”

“Are they alive?” she asked, peeking into the sack.

“No.” He swallowed. “No child has these toys without thinking some part of them lives, however. They will be James’s constant friends. He’ll never be alone.”

“If you’re lying,” she told him coolly, “then I’m not resting until you kicked out of here.”

Loki squashed the hope that stemmed from this turn of events. “If I’m lying, I’m forsworn, and I’ll leave on my own.”

Natasha nodded sharply and left. Clint paused long enough to snap, “I wish you’d leave _now._ ” Then he followed her. Tony stared at him a moment and left in silence.

In the privacy of his own space, Loki sat down and fumed at this mistreatment.


	68. Sound Test

‘Focus on you’, Zoe had suggested at the wedding. At first Emma interpreted that as backing off from romance, and so she did. She politely refused the offers for dates that had trickled in after her drunken flirtations at the wedding. She’d also brought her interactions with Peter back down to a purely platonic level, cutting off the flirtation entirely.

Tony was a more complicated matter. Though he’d been behaving himself since their last conversation, they spent so much time together during the day that it was hard to keep her thoughts from straying. In order to reduce temptation she'd altered her schedule, finding reasons to work separately and engrossing herself in research that didn't require much interaction with the others.

She’d also decided to spend some time getting to know her other fellow Avengers a bit better; she trained with Verun and Bucky, chatted with Natasha and cooed over the baby, hung out with Clint, and even instructed Thor in the fine art of the Netflix-binge during one of Jane’s several-day long research projects. She also started dropping in to hang out with Zoe a bit on occasion, and Loki by proxy. She’d appreciated the snowy-haired telepath’s advice and wanted to get to know her a bit better; besides, it was interesting to watch the couple interact without anyone around who was judging them.

Eventually, however, she’d realized that she was immersing herself with company to fill in the silence. She decided she needed a bit of time to herself as well, and the racquetball court had proven to be the perfect solution. She’d started going at four in the morning when it was just her, the racquet, and the steady thumping of the ball against the wall. This morning the sounds of the ball had been sharper and the echo had lasted longer; it had left her anxious to get back to her rooms and perform her morning audio test for the day.

Once the sweat and grime had been drained away by her post-workout shower Emma wrapped herself in a towel and wrung the water out of her thick, auburn hair. “JARVIS,” she stated as she began to work the knots out of her hair, “start the test, please?”

“Of course, Dr. Thompson. Right away.” A gentle dinging noise sounded, loudly at first and easily audible to the still-recovering scientist. _A hundred and twenty decibels,_ she noted, checking off that box in her head. The noise sounded again, slightly quieter this time though Emma still heard it clearly. _A hundred and fifteen decibels._ It wasn’t until she’d gone through several more dings that she paused, setting down her hair pick and focusing her full attention on the test. _Eighty-five decibels… eighty… seventy-five!_

JARVIS paused the test, his words flashing up into Emma’s field of vision. “Should I mark seventy-five decibels as your new audio range, Dr. Thompson? That’s lower than yesterday’s results.”

She hesitated nervously, then shook her head.  “No, keep going JARVIS. Just in case.”

“Very well,” the AI responded. Emma closed her eyes, blocking out everything except the sounds around her. Suddenly, another ding broke, fainter than the one before it but still audible.

She let out a cry of delight, and pumped her fist in the air. “Seventy! Seventy decibels, JARVIS!”

“Congratulations, Dr. Thompson. This is excellent news! Shall I update Dr. Austin and Sir on your progress?” the AI inquired, storing the information in his databanks.

“You can inform Dr. Austin, JARVIS.” She hesitated, considering what to do about Tony. Seventy decibels was the milestone she’d been watching for. It meant she would finally be able to hear people’s voices again, though they would have to be close or speaking loudly for her to do so. She’d been avoiding other people entirely for three days now, ever since she’d hit eighty decibels, for that very reason. It had been easy enough to do, she’d made an excuse about needing to focus on a prototype and being able to do it better without anyone around to distract her. The fact that it had been true made it a much simpler sell, it was why she’d been saving that particular project. It might seem silly, but after going so long now without hearing anyone’s voice she wanted to be selective about the first person she heard speak. She didn’t want it to be a stranger, or because someone was shouting across the hangar for some random part. She certainly didn’t want it to be because Loki or Tony or whoever was in a pissy mood that day got into a shouting match with someone else.

 _You have a bunch of people you could go see,_ she reminded herself. _Clint, or Tasha, or Zoe… any of them would be thrilled to hear the news._ Of them all, Clint gave her the most pause. He’d certainly been there for her, not only recently but through her initial recovery period as well. Aside from Tony, he was the one who had been there to visit her the most, who’d spent so much time with her lately without saying a single word about the fact that she was obviously avoiding alone time with Stark. He was the one who’d sent Zoe in to keep her from making a fool of herself at the wedding, even if a small part of her wished he hadn’t so that she could know how that dance would have played out. _But that’s the thing…_ she mused to herself thoughtfully. _Even if you didn’t love Tony Stark, he’d still be your best friend. He’s still the one who’s been there, and he wants to be friends with you. You avoid him for too much longer and you’re going to lose that, too._

“Don’t tell Tony, JARVIS. I’d like to tell him myself. Is he in the hangar for the _Maria Beta_?” she asked as she finished getting dressed and picked out a pair of shoes to slip into.

“No, Dr. Thompson,” the voice responded. “He _is_ in the labs adjoining the hangar. He’s alone at the moment, shall I inform him that you’re on your way?”

“No thanks,” she said, grabbing the completed prototype. “Not unless he tries to leave. I’d rather surprise him.”

As she approached the lab, she could hear the rock music blaring, even with her still-limited hearing. Tony had the music cranked enough that she could hear the melody line even through the door. When she entered, the music was almost painful, and the man himself was under the hood of a classic car, in the middle of ripping it apart. Several of the engine’s components lay scattered around the car already.

She stood there in the doorway for a moment, smiling wryly at him. Here he was, standing not a hundred yards from a half-finished marvel of intergalactic engineering, and he was working on a mid-century BMW. _Guess I’m not the only one taking a little time for myself._ After a moment she walked over and turned down the music to a level just out of her range of hearing. “Nice car,” she commented as he glanced up from the hood. “What is that, a 507? Series I or II?”

“Emma!” There was something wrong with the billionaire; his smile was unsettled and his eyes darted around the room. He licked his lips nervously and straightened, peering past her to the door. “Did-- Did Loki send you?”

“Loki?” Her brow furrowed quizzically, and she shook her head. “Why would Loki send me? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Loki was just being an asshole earlier. I thought he might be continuing his reign of douchery...” Tony turned back to the car and leaned in again, pulling on something deep inside the machine. The stress of his efforts accented his muscles, and he was almost grunting as he asked, “Whatcha need?”

It took her a moment, but she forced herself to rip her gaze away from the distracting display of Tony manhandling a vintage V8 engine. She walked over to a table as casually as she could manage and set down the project she’d been working on for the last few days. “I finished the prototype for that motherboard, I thought I’d bring it down,” she replied, a bit impressed that she hadn’t given that excuse in accidental fuck-me voice.

That got him to look up at her. “Good,” he said, then straightened. “We’ll need that. You know, you didn’t have to come all the way down here for that. You work too hard.”

"I don't mind, I've missed the company." She picked up a rag for his hands and walked towards him until she was standing right in front of him. She held it out to him with a soft smile. "I love my work. You know that. Besides, I had something else I wanted to tell you."

His eyes widened and she saw him swallow tightly. “Oh?” he asked, taking the rag and applying it to the grease on his hands.

She grinned suddenly, as if something had amused her. _‘Oh.’_ she thought, laughing at herself inwardly. _Months without the sound of another human being’s voice, and the first thing I get is ‘Oh’._ “Yeah,” she replied, then reached up and tugged off the glasses. “I wanted to tell you that I can hear you again.”

“You can hear me?” he asked, a small smile crossing his face. “Really?”

“Only just,” she replied, but her eyes were shining with happiness. “I clocked myself at seventy decibels this morning so you either have to be talking loudly, or I have to be standing really close. But yeah, I can hear you.”

He lunged forward and scooped her up in his arms, grinning. “That’s wonderful!” he said, spinning with her in the air. He seemed to have forgotten their previous distance and coolness as he stared at her with inches between them.

"I know!" she replied. She was laughing with delight as he twirled her around, her gaze locked with his own. Finally he began to lower her back down but she surprised him by slipping her arms around his neck. It was supposed to be for a simple hug, but somehow it ended up with her body sliding down against his instead. “I wanted you to know first,” she murmured, a bit breathlessly.

He swallowed at the contact, Loki’s words ringing in his head like a bell. “That’s because you knew I’d demand a rocking party to celebrate,” he told her, releasing her and stepping back. “A lot of music, booze, and off-color toasts to your good health.”

For a moment she looked as if she were going to protest, but then her expression grew thoughtful. After a moment, her lips curved up at the corners. “Yeah?”

“Why not?” He reached out and grabbed her shoulders. “This is a big deal, hon. Eh, Emma.” He let go of her. “So, you tell me where and when, and I’ll do the rest.”

“Okay,” she replied with a little nod, then smiled at him again warmly. “I will. We’ll keep it smaller, it hasn’t been that long since the wedding and I really only want people there that I know. But that sounds great, Tony. Thank you.” She leaned in and actually did give him the hug this time, then she stepped back and slipped her glasses back on.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Tony said, aware that he was starting to sound like a broken record. “So, Loki said something odd to me today.”

“That’s right, you said you were having issues with him?” She turned around and took a peek under the hood of the BMW, then reached over and grabbed a socket wrench. She’d long ago discovered that potentially stressful conversations with Tony were best handled while working, and Loki was definitely one of his stress points. She leaned over the hood and started twisting the wrench calmly. “What was it he was saying?”

“Crazy stuff.” He joined her, leaning close as they both tore the engine apart. “First, he gave James living toys, and Natasha lost her shit over it. So her, Clint, and I went to talk to him, and he wanted to rattle us, right? So he told me - I mean, it’s ridiculous, right? He said I was in love with you.” He paused and the silence stretched. “Crazy, right?”

She realized, after a moment, that the click of her socket wrench had gone silent because she’d stopped moving it. She swallowed and tried to force a laugh as she resumed work on the engine, but all she managed was a soft noise in the back of her throat. “Hmn. No kidding. Any idea what made him come up with that?”

“I have no idea.” Tony watched her closely as he said softly, “I was hoping you could tell me.”

She was quiet for a long moment, moistening her lips with her tongue before she finally spoke. _Damnit! Just why is he sticking his nose into this?_ “Loki is perceptive. Maybe he picked up on the tension that was between us for awhile and made some assumptions.”

“Maybe. It’s not like he knows that I can’t, I won’t get through, losing someone I care about like that.” The fuel injector in front of him was _very_ interesting right now, and he had a laser focus on it.

She could barely hear herself think over the pounding of her own pulse, but she focused all her effort on keeping her voice neutral. “I’m sure he’s just trying to push your buttons, Tony. Try not to let it get to you.”

He paused, then sighed. “I guess so.” Straightening, he wiped his hands clean and asked, “When and where, Em?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to reign in the emotional turmoil and regain her equilibrium. _So you can handle a conversation with him, so long as the subject doesn’t come up. Fantastic. Progress._ “Um… what’s today, Wednesday? Let’s do Saturday then. A few more days, and I might actually be able to carry on a conversation with more than one person. I’m not sure where, somewhere intimate and low-key. Let’s just do friends, you know? Drinks, dancing. I want good music - jazz, blues, nothing too hard on the ears just yet. Sound good?”

He wagged his finger at her. “Music, drinks, guests - that is all my responsibility. The only thing I promise is that it won’t be as bad as the Birthday Pepper Banned.”

She glanced up at him and arched a brow. “Dare I ask?”

“No, you daren’t.” He grinned. “That’s classified. Now, excuse me. I have a party to plan.”


	69. A B C D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter, yay!

Phil hoped he wasn’t screwing up the fragile alliance that he’d forged with Zoe, but this seemed natural and innocent enough. Were it anyone else that he felt a certain warmth toward, he wouldn’t have hesitated. _Heck_ , he told himself, _you did the same for Natasha and James._ Not the same thing, of course, but so long as he could justify the same action for other friends, he was probably in the clear. Even if it had taken him six weeks to work up the courage to do it.

Clearing his throat, he knocked carefully on her door.

“Just a moment!” Zoe called out from somewhere in the apartment. A few moments later the door opened, spilling the rich smell of baked bread and fruits out into the hallway. She smiled at Phil, knocking a bit of flour from her hands and shirt. “Hey, come on in. I’m baking, wanna be my taste-tester?”

“Sure,” he said with a grin, following her into the suite of rooms. “You like to bake?”

She laughed as she went to check on the oven. “Some, and I needed a break from combat and power training for a day.” She picked one of her cinnamon-raisin monkey-bread muffins up and split it between them. “Here. I’d be adding to Loki’s waistline with these to make sure they were good, but he doesn’t like sweets.”

The agent looked baffled. “Loki doesn’t like sweets?” Phil added that to the list of ‘Things Wrong with the Asgardian Prince’ in his head.

“I know, right?” She shook her head in mock despair at her paramour’s lacking. “Apparently everything we have here on Midgard is covered in syrup and sugar. Except for potato chips, which are too salty. It’s a wonder he hasn’t _starved_.”

 _If only._ Per their agreement, Phil didn’t voice his mean thought. “His loss,” he remarked, taking a bite of the pastry. “Mmm, very good.” Her eyes had dropped to the front pocket of his jacket, and he glanced down to see the end of the red ribbon. “I guess Christmas is ruined,” he joked as he pulled the package out and handed it to her. “I saw this on Knowhere and thought of you.”

She smiled, her expression lighting up at the gift. She pulled the ribbon off the slim box and opened it, pulling out the arrowhead-shaped stone. It was cool and smooth to the touch, like marble, but the color was a deep blue-green. As it warmed in her hand, soft music began to play. It was light and airy, gaining in volume until it comfortably filled the room with the double melody. Zoe closed her eyes and listened raptly, murmuring, “It’s beautiful, Phil. Thank you.”

“Huh,” he said with a smile, “the song was different than when I heard it. I mean, I can kinda hear parts of it, but it's definitely different.”

She turned it over in her hand a few times, trying to see if there was any sort of control mechanism on it. Eventually she held it out to Phil. “Maybe you can figure out how it switches songs? Maybe it just goes through a list or something?”

He took it as he said, “You got me what’s going on. They didn’t sell me a manual--” He stopped as she held up her hand. “What?”

“It changed. The melody changed.” Zoe looked a little excited as she said, “Pass it back.” He did as she asked, listening closely, but to his untrained ear, there was little difference.

She listened for a moment, then bounced a little. “It changes with the person! When I took it back, it went back to my melody. Oh, this is so _cool!_ ” She held it up to her ear, humming along with it, then laughed at a thought. “Wait ‘till I show this to Darcy; she’s gonna want to get everyone’s melody.”

“Yes, so she can psychoanalyze us some more.” Phil was mostly joking, but she’d embraced the idea that she needed to understand the other people in Sanctuary with a little too much enthusiasm. “Oh, has she had you take the Myers-Briggs yet?”

“Oh, yes. She ambushed Verun and I with it a few days after we got here. And the Keirsey Temperament Sorter, and the Big Five personality traits and half a dozen other weird tests. By the time I was done, my brain was swimming in a b c d’s.” She shrugged, “It was kinda fun to see the results, though. Oh! Maybe we can record each melody and make music mixes. Like an ‘Avengers’ list, a ‘People of Sanctuary’, ‘I Come From Outer Space’...”

She trailed off, chuckling at the concept, and did a quick check of the pastries in the oven. “It should be fun to watch her run around the city gathering it all up. And hey, when you live in a secret underground fox hole, you take the entertainment you can get, no?”

Phil chuckled. “We do have video games. However, you have cleverly stumbled into an opening for my segue: how are you doing? Do you need anything? Even a job - as Darcy has no doubt shown you, there are plenty of ways to fill your time.”

“I’m okay. Most of my time is spent learning how to control my abilities and learn to fight right now, anyways. Once I’m declared fit by Verun and Natasha, I’ll need something to do. Preferably less fattening than baking, though,” she said, pulling out the pan of danishes and setting them to cool on a rack. The flash of heat reminded her of her sleeping issues and she hesitated. _What could he really do about it anyways? He’s a secret agent, not a geneticist._

He saw the pause and almost called her on it. Prying that directly might set her off, given their prior relationship, so he picked his words more carefully. “You know, if you _do_ need something, I’ll get it for you, or find someone who can. Or if--” He swallowed and held out the ultimate olive branch. “If Loki needs something, too.” _I even said it without choking on the words or throwing up in my mouth. Go me._

It was the last part that finally tipped her over the edge into trust. “It’s not Loki,” she shook her head, “it’s me. I think...I think there’s something wrong with me. I mean, I _know_ there’s something wrong with me, that was pretty clear on Asgard, but I think it’s starting to affect me.” She took a deep breath, then plunged on, “They did something to me, HYDRA I mean. More than just using the staff on me. They were trying to manipulate my DNA. What did the Asgard doctor say? ‘To fuse another life-strand with the two I already have’ or something like that. They were trying to add DNA code to me and they botched it up a whole bunch. I _do_ remember her saying she didn’t understand how I was still alive. . . and that may be rectifying itself now.”

Phil frowned, feeling guilt once more that he’d failed to protect her. “Well, let’s get you in to see Dr. Cho. I don’t know if you’ve met her but she’s our leading expert on genetics. No offense to the Asgardians, but until I know what they’re talking about, I’m not going to assume the worse. Are you having any symptoms?” He pulled out his phone and opened up a note program.

“I can’t sleep. Not insomnia, I’m just really hot, then freezing, then sweating again. I’m tired, too, but I’m not really getting any good sleep, so. . .” she shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself as a comforting gesture. It was good to tell someone; intellectually she understood that, but it still made her feel vulnerable.

Phil typed the information into the phone; Helen would need to know all of this. “How quickly would you like to start the process?” he asked. “I could call in a favor and get Dr. Cho to meet you today, if you want.”

She took a shuddering breath and nodded. “That’s probably best. I’m tired already and I’ll be a nervous wreck pretty soon.”

Ten minutes later the oven was off and the two of them were seated in Dr. Cho’s lab; as a research physician, she didn’t see regular patients in Sanctuary. Zoe thought she looked kind, with small wrinkles just starting at the corners of her lips and eyes, and a patient, calm manner that put the antsy young woman at ease. “A third DNA strand?” she asked, her expression warring between concern and scientific interest.

Zoe nodded, repeating as much as she could remember from the brief exchange in Asgard. “Maybe they were trying to augment my abilities? Or maybe the staff has a weird effect on humans?”

Cho shook her head. “It’s not from the staff. We had several agents, including Hawkeye, under the effects of the staff and none of them showed any sort of physiological change. We did full physicals on them afterwards and regular checkups for over a year, just to make sure there weren’t side effects like that.”

“Strucker did have those altered animals in his compound, too,” Phil said softly. “From the reports the Avenger’s gave, it sounds like his scientists had been experimenting with genetics for quite some time and had made. . . progress.”

“Well,” Cho said with a brisk smile, “then the first things we need to do are get the tests up and running and take your medical history.” She retrieved a kit full of glass tubes, a butterfly needle, and spooled tubing. She motioned for Zoe to roll up her sleeve.

The white-haired woman hesitated again. “Can you take it from my hand?” she asked.

“I can but it might hurt more. Is that what you want?” Dr. Cho had a spark of interest pass through her expression, but she didn’t press the matter. When Zoe nodded, Dr. Cho took her hand, found a vein, and collected all the samples she needed. It was quite a few vials, and Zoe got a little nervous about how much was being taken. “I’m going to get the tests running. I’ll send in an assistant with juice and some cheese, if you like those. I didn’t take quite a pint, but you should sit and rest for a while anyway.”

“You want me to wait?” Zoe asked, confused.

“You could leave, but I’ll have the results in a few minutes.” The older woman smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling.

The musician frowned; she recalled these kind of tests taking days or weeks. “So soon?”

“Yes,” Phil told her, grinning. “Dr. Cho has a machine that can build a human body out of polymers.”

“We use it mostly for prosthetics, though we’re working on perfect replacement organs with the technology as well,” the doctor said with pride when she came back in from sending an assistant for the food and drink.

“You get kidnapped for two years, and everything interesting passes you by,” Zoe said with wry amusement. She dived on the plate of crackers, cookies, and juice that was brought in a few minutes later, eating steadily through most of the plate on her own.

Phil frowned as she downed most of the treats. He didn’t have any himself; at his age, watching what he ate was required. By the time Zoe was done eating, Dr. Cho had the results. “First, you’re right about the third strand of DNA,” she started immediately, her expression devoid of the warmth from before. Now she was very serious as she faced Zoe with a tablet in her hand. “However, I couldn’t find any sign that it was a partial addition. All along your DNA, you have a third strand.

“I’m going to be completely honest. At this point, I’m not even sure what the third strand is made of, because it’s not adenine, cytosine, guanine, or thymine. Whatever these nucleic acids are, they’re working perfectly with the four we know.” Dr. Cho looked frustrated but intrigued, a mixture that Zoe saw often during her imprisonment. “I’ll continue to study them and let you know what I learn.”

She handed Zoe the tablet, which was displaying a number of test results. “These are your various hormones and biological indicators of your health. Since this is the first time we’ve drawn your blood, we need to verify your baseline. Where is your medical file? I found one for SHIELD but that was from before your imprisonment.”

Zoe shrugged, “Unless they downloaded one from HYDRA before they blew the base up, that’s the most recent one I have. Well, I guess except for whatever they have on me in Asgard, but that’s not really accessible.”

“No, they don’t really share well,” Dr. Cho said drily, disapproval in her tone. “Why haven’t you had a physical exam done until now?”

“It’s our fault,” Phil said quickly. “Everything was so hectic when we got here, it just slipped through the cracks.”

“I’ll need you to come back in two days so we can establish your baseline.” Dr. Cho managed a smile. “I know this is frightening, but we’ll figure it out, Zoe. I promise.”


	70. Conditions

Forty eight hours later Zoe was having deja vu as Dr. Cho drew another, thankfully smaller, amount of blood out of the back of her hand and ran it through her myriad of scientific instruments. “Well, doc, what’s the verdict? Am I becoming a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle? ‘Cause the ‘Teenage’ and ‘Ninja’ parts of that are pretty awesome.”

 “All I can tell you at the moment is that you’re not becoming an amphibian,” Dr. Cho said with a smile. “Everything else is still on the table.”

“You won’t need genetic help to be a ninja, not if Natasha has her way,” Phil added. He was trying to be cheerful and upbeat, but the worry for her health made it difficult. He’d seen first hand what could occur when odd things happened to people’s genetic structure. He also wasn’t sure how Loki was feeling about it, but he didn’t want to know. It wasn’t a matter of wanting to keep abreast of Loki; it was the sure knowledge he’d judge the jotun’s reaction to it and say something that would alienate Zoe again.

“I’m going to be a pile of pain, bruises, and regrets if Natasha has her way with me _too_ much,” Zoe quipped back, trying to stay optimistic. “Okay, well, can you tell if the weird DNA is why I keep bouncing up and down on the thermometer, at least?” _It’s too much to hope for an actual cure along with an answer, too,_ she thought wryly.

Dr. Cho smiled. “We’ll try to get some answers for you today. We’ll just need a couple of more minutes for the tests to come back.” She’d barely finished speaking when the tablet in her hand dinged. “Speak of the Thunder God,” she muttered, sparing a quick, hopeful glance toward the door. “Okay, I’m pulling up your last results to compare . . .” Her voice trailed off as confusion colored her features.

“What’s wrong?” Phil asked with a sense of foreboding.

“Zoe, I have to ask you some very personal questions. Would you like Agent Coulson to give us some privacy?” The doctor was speaking very casually, in a voice that suggested the news was Pretty Bad (™).

“Um, what kind of personal questions?” She glanced at Phil, filled with the same foreboding now. “I mean, you looked at the SHIELD file, right? He put most of it together, so I’m not sure there’s much he doesn’t know already.”

“Yes, but I have to ask you about your sexual practices.” Helen’s flickered briefly at the sole man in the room before forcing her full attention back on Zoe.

Zoe flushed bright red, confusion and embarrassment warring on her face. “Uh, yeah, probably best to talk in private. Phil?” The last came out in a strangled squeak. They might have a nice detente going, but Zoe was pretty sure the last thing in the universe Phil wanted to hear about was her sex life with Loki. _What could that possibly have to do with my DNA?_

“I’ll be right outside,” he assured her. Phil wanted to hear about her sexcapades with Loki about as much as she wanted to tell him. _Thankfully. I’ve had agents who didn’t care enough about that sort of TMI._

Once they were alone, the doctor folded her hands over the tablet and said, “I’m not going to moralize. All I’m going to say is that cheating on an Asgardian is a very bad idea. You should talk to Thor, as hard as it will be, because I don’t see Loki having a good reaction to this.”

Zoe blinked in honest confusion. “What are you talking about? I’ve only ever had sex with one other person, and that was decades ago. You can’t cheat _before_ you meet someone.”

Helen stared at her. She didn’t like to openly accuse her patients of lying. “You need to think very carefully about your next steps then. In addition to the DNA damage, there are going to be some very hard questions about how and why. Zoe, you know, if someone assaulted you, you can tell Phil or the Avengers. I mean, with the latter, their response is in their name. But if you were--”

“Dr. Cho,” Zoe cut in loudly, talking over the other woman, frustration and annoyance making her more aggressive than usual. “What _are_ you talking about? What ‘how and why’? How and why my DNA got screwed up? Who would have assaulted me? Why? And of course I would have told someone! I’m not a doormat or a moron! And what does that have to do with my genes?”

The doctor took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I got ahead of myself. My findings have nothing to do with your DNA condition. But it does have to do with your _pregnancy_ condition.”

The younger woman’s eyes shot wide. “My _what?_ ”

“You’re pregnant. About two months, if your HCG levels are normal. I’ll have to determine your actual date of conception based--”

Zoe shot up from her chair, her hands balling into fists as she paced across the room. “I’m going to kill him! I’m going to cut him into tiny little Loki-bits, bake them into a pie, and serve it to the Avengers. As dessert. With his balls on top as decoration.”

“I understand you’re angry--” Dr. Cho’s conciliatory remarks were cut off when Phil poked his head into the room.

“Everything okay?” he dared to ask.

“He said it couldn’t happen!” She yelled, not at Phil in particular, but at his entire sex. He just happened to be the only male handy at the moment. “Guaranteed it! No chance! Not compatible! One thing the ‘God of Lies’ really might not want to have _lied_ about!”

“You’re not compatible,” Dr. Cho interjected hastily; she’d checked early in her Thor-crush days. “An Asgardian or Jotun couldn’t have gotten you--” She cut off her words as she remembered Phil was there, with the door open.

“Then call the damn Vatican because we’ve got ourselves an Immaculate Conception!” The irate woman threw up her hands. “Unless someone managed to sneak in to our room while I was asleep and have sex with me without waking either of us up, _I haven’t slept with anyone else!”_

Phil stepped into the room and firmly shut the door. He was aware that it was too late; there had been a research assistant in the hallway, and god knows who else in their offices. Zoe could get really loud, not that he blamed her in this situation. “First, we do need to determine if that’s what happened,” he said firmly. “We can have JARVIS check for any unauthorized visitors to your room when Loki was out walking. The other thing we might consider: could the DNA damage allow Loki to be the father?”

“No, it should render her incompatible with everyone, except a similarly altered human.” Dr. Cho rose as well, unconsciously mirroring the other two in the room. “HYDRA might have done something to you as well, some kind of delayed embryo.”

Zoe went from white hot to pale green in record time. “No. No no no no _no_. They don’t get anything more from me!” She was standing shock-still now, her hands still clenched and white-knuckled, and her breath coming in rapid, ragged drags.

Phil caught her by the arms, shooting a dark glare at Helen for tossing that idea out so casually. “Please sit down. You don’t want to fall down.”

“And breathe. I can get you something.” Dr. Cho headed for the door, already using her tablet to find pregnancy-safe drugs for anxiety.

Zoe sat right where she’d been standing, pulling up her knees once she was on the floor and putting her head between them. Her mind was stuttering now, reeling between all the possible explanations and the ultimate question: _What the hell do I do now?_ With the intensive training she’d been receiving from Verun, her mind reached for its newest bag of tricks, looking for comfort and security. In two different places in the city of Sanctuary, the jotun twins were mentally pummelled with a wordless, chaotic plea for help.

Verun responded almost immediately, showering the beleaguered woman with comfort. Zoe could feel her coming closer, while Loki’s fear and rage grew into panic as he realized he didn’t know where she was.

Dr. Cho came back with a mug of hot tea. “Drink this,” she ordered firmly. “Yes, there’s a bit of bourbon in it but just a little alcohol is fine.”

Zoe gave her a dubious look, but sipped at the tea. Verun’s mental presence had calmed her some already and she managed to reach out consciously to her lover and give him directions to where she was. She wasn’t up to forming actual words in her message to tell him what was going on, but at least she’d kept enough control of herself not to send Dr. Cho’s lab all helter skelter during her panic. The warmth of the tea spread through her and sipping forced her to take measured breaths. “Can. . . can you check? To see if the baby is. . . where it came from?”

“I can’t, but perhaps Asgardian doctors would be able to determine it.” Helen glanced at Phil. “Do you think they’ll agree to do so?”

“They will if the succession of the throne is in question,” the agent said grimly.

“Before we get to that, I have a question for you, Zoe.” The fine-boned doctor asked, “Do you want to consider terminating the pregnancy?”

Zoe's brain caught on 'succession' and it took her a minute to remember that Loki really was a prince - and Thor was married to someone he couldn't have children with. She hung her head and fought back another wave of panic. "I-I don't know. I can't think right now."

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Dr. Cho said, as Phil nodded in firm agreement. “You might want to talk to Loki, but carefully. I understand that his culture is touchy about wedlock and children.”

The door slammed open and the jotun in question stood in the doorway. “What have you done to her?” he snapped, his expression full of fury.

Dr. Cho shrank back and Phil moved a step closer to the angry godling, facing him despite the ache in his chest scar. “Nothing. Calm down and shut the door.”

Loki ignored the mortal, looking to Zoe; she nodded and motioned him come inside. "Verun is on her way, too." She hesitated, not sure how to talk to him about this now that he was here. "Um, I, uh . . . " she floundered, looking to Dr. Cho and Phil for a lifeline.

The door opened again, and Tony poked his head into the room. “Hi, guys,” he said brightly, as if he were greeting friends instead of walking into a tension-filled room. “What’s up? Any bloodshed I should know about?”

“Soon,” Loki promised with a glare, “if you don’t leave. This is private.”

“Yes, but Dr. Cho is my friend, as is Agent,” Tony said. “You look angry enough to kill, Reindeer, so I was making sure you weren’t.”

“I haven’t decided yet,” the jotun growled.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, see, not the way to get me to leave.”

“Loki can behave himself, can’t you?” Phil’s tone suggested that disagreeing with him would only escalate the situation, and he added a glance at Zoe to remind the jotun that there were bigger issues than Tony Stark’s nosiness.

The prince looked to his lover once more, seeking what she needed in the distraught expression on her face. There was plea there; she looked tired, exhausted. In a second, Loki decided that she had been worn out by these people and the best thing he could do for her was to remove her. He held out a hand. “Then we are leaving. Zoe?”

She reached for his hand, letting him help her to her feet. "Loki, I--"

He scooped her up in his arms and moved them from that office back to their room. Some of the tension fled his body as soon as they were alone, and his movements were less frantic as he sat her down in her favorite chair. “What do you need?” he asked her, kneeling next to her.

 _Dammit, I didn't want to tell him alone._ Not telling him now wasn't an option to her, so she took his hands looked directly into his eyes. "I need you to stay calm while I tell you something and let me finish talking before you react. Will you do that for me?"

“I will try.” It wasn’t the more reassuring answer in the world. He leaned in and kissed her lightly after his vow, his eyes searching her multi-hued ones.

She nodded and took a deep breath. “I found out on Asgard that HYDRA messed with my DNA. I didn’t want to deal with it, so I just ignored it as much as I could. Over the past couple of weeks I’ve been having issues - the temperature fluctuations and not getting much sleep, you know about those. Phil convinced me to go see Dr. Cho because she’s a geneticist and would know better if the messed up DNA was causing the issues.” She paused, took another breath, and plunged on. “She did tests a couple of days ago and today. I’m. . .  I’m pregnant. And since I haven’t slept with anyone else, either someone managed to impregnate me without my knowledge, HYDRA did some weird sort of delayed-growth embryo implantation or something, or humans and jotuns are more compatible than everyone thinks.” She took a quick breath this time, hurrying on, “Dr. Cho says she can’t determine anything about the baby yet, but she did put forward that maybe someone on Asgard could. So. . . so we could know and figure out what to do. Okay. I-I’m done.”


	71. Oatmeal Raisin

Loki froze, his green eyes widening. Had the moment not been so serious, she would have laughed at his shocked, bewildered expression. Instead, his lost look was a reflection of her own inner turmoil. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “No. There’s a mistake,” he said, his voice icily calm. “The doctors are wrong. You’re fine.”

"Pregnant or no, I'm really not. Head-wise I'm getting better, but they messed with my DNA, Loki," she said softly. "My OM strands, I think the Asgard lady called it. She was baffled that I was still alive. Whatever else is going on, HYDRA's got their handiwork in me for the rest of my life."

Loki rose, his movements sharp and agitated. “No, I mean you’re not--” He paced back and forth, his pale skin flushing. “You can’t be with child.” A hint of panic had entered his voice.

"A blood test at two months out is pretty conclusive, but we could wait another seven months just to be sure." Witty quips was a survival skill when you were dating someone with the moniker 'Silver-Tongued'.

He stilled and shuddered once, the terror fading into his caustic emotional shield he wore in front of the world. “I assume you’ll demand marriage now,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck no," she snorted. "Marriage just because there's a baby ends up being miserable for everyone, especially the kid of a couple that feels _trapped_ into staying together instead of _wanting_ to."

He resumed pacing. “What if it isn’t mine?” he asked suddenly. “What then?”

She shuddered, drawing in on herself. "HYDRA doesn't get anything more from me," she said in a low, angry rumble.

“I meant for _us_ ,” he said softly. The apartment was silent for a moment as both of them absorbed the fact that Loki had been the first to call this more than sex-for-fun. He sat down on the ottoman that matched the chair. “What am I to do with this, Zoe? Either you’ve trapped me into fatherhood or I am helpless to stop another violation of your being.”

"We're not exactly helpless either way, Loki," she countered. "If it's some HYDRA experiment, I'm _not_ having it. Ditto if we _both_ decide we don't want to be parents yet."

“Ah,” he said, relaxing a touch. “You mean ending the fetus. I see.” He was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “I suppose I shall have to tell Thor, either way.”

"Why?" It seemed an odd segue. "It's none of his business."

“Because you need to know the source of the fetus,” he said firmly, “and I can’t take you to Asgard for that answer.”

She groaned and doubled over to put her head in her hands. "Because that won't be awkward and awful. Great, Asgard with only _Thor_ for backup. I'm gonna lose my temper and get lynched by Norse Popeye."

For once, Loki couldn’t enjoy someone making fun of Odin. “I guess,” he said reluctantly, “Verun could take you instead. You’d have greater cooperation if Thor is there to intercede for you.”

"Why not both? Thor can be my hall pass and Verun can be bodyguard if I get myself in over my head."

Loki nodded. “Yes, if you want both of them.” He knew they’d agree to help her. “Since Verun is no doubt hunting for us already, would you like to call Thor here? Or are we dealing with this later?”

She shook her head. "No, now. I-I don't want this hanging over us." She looked up at the ceiling, "JARVIS, can you ask Thor to come see us?"

“Of course, Zoe.” The AI’s crisp response seemed to be softer. “He has been summoned. Verun will be here shortly - would you like me to admit her when she arrives?”

"Please." Zoe’s quiet request drove Loki to his feet again with a need to do _something_. By the time Verun walked through the open door, Zoe had a cup of hot tea at her elbow and a blanket tucked around her.

“What is wrong?” The Vanir sorceress asked, even as she peered around the room for visible signs of carnage and chaos.

Zoe waved her over to the couch, saying, "We have a situation, and a request. We'll explain once Thor gets here too."

The God of Thunder arrived shortly, his hair windblown and ozone hanging around him. “I came at JARVIS’s bidding,” he said, his smile fading as he caught the tension in the room. “What has gathered us together?”

Zoe exchanged a quick look with Loki, but at the price's hesitation she spoke up, giving as concise a summation of the situation as she could. "Since Loki's not allowed to go back to Asgard right now, I was hoping the two of you would take me," she finished.

“It cannot be yours, brother,” Thor said somberly. “No matter how much you may want it to be. You know that.”

“I never said I wanted it to be.” Loki scowled at the bigger man. “I would be happy to continue my current arrangement with Zoe without this interruption.”

“We will gladly take you,” Verun said before the brothers could start fighting.

Zoe stood, shaking the blanket off of her. "Thank you. Can we go now?"

The two women headed for the door, only to pause when Thor caught Loki’s arm. “This is why you wait for marriage,” he snapped at his dark-haired brother. “Think on that.”

“Yes,” Zoe said drily, “think on how Asgard could figure out intergalactic transportation but not condoms or birthcontrol.”

Loki pulled away from Thor and gave Zoe a kiss. Brushing her white hair back behind her ear, he murmured, “Don’t stay there long.”

“She’ll be well-treated, brother.” Thor was still angry as he caught up to them at the door.

“No, I don’t want Odin to consider that she might carry his first possible heir,” Loki shot back. “I don’t trust him to be rational about a grandchild, or its mother.”

Zoe gave Verun a look that clearly communicated that that was exactly why she wanted her jotun friend along. Loki’s twin smiled grimly. “Don’t look to me for that. If it comes to fighting Odin over you, Zoe, Thor will be your shield. I will help, but you will lean on him.”

Zoe took a breath and muttered to herself, “I am so totally _fucked_.”

“I believe that is the source of the problem,” Thor said with some of Tony’s dry wit. That earned him a glare from both women, and a silence that lasted as they went outside and called to Heimdall for the transport to Asgard.

As they appeared in the golden dome that housed the teleporter, Verun took Zoe’s hand. At the touch, the taller woman’s concern and comfort became a constant brush on Zoe’s mind. As they got closer to Odin’s golden throne room, that comfort became more of an effort for her to hold in place.

Any remaining solace shattered when Odin glared down from his seat at Zoe and growled, “I know why you’re here.”

“Great,” Zoe said with forced nonchalance. “Then we can just get right to it, yes?”

Odin nodded to the blue-robed women standing to the side. Unlike Odin, she didn’t look ready to bite someone’s head off, so it was a relief to follow her. Unfortunately, the king came too; he wanted to know whether his adopted son had disappointed him yet again.

Very little was said as the human woman was led into the Healing Room and settled on the examination table. Zoe waited for the cool touch of a doctor but instead an image of her body hovered over her. “Your OM damage has progressed in a surprisingly orderly manner,” the doctor murmured, staring at the display. “The fetus also has the triple spiral.”

“Is Loki the father?” Odin asked gruffly.

The doctor seemed nonplussed by the implications of the question. “Yes, I’m detecting Jotun and Vanir OM. It would seem that your son has a child.” She leaned over to look at Zoe. “Would you like to know the gender now?”

“Um...I don’t know?” Her head was spinning between _Loki’s an idiot_ and _Great, I’ve made my baby a freak too._ “Maybe I should talk to Loki first. We haven’t decided if we want to keep the baby. He seemed pretty not-happy about the prospect of being a father.”

“The child will be provided for,” Odin grumbled as he moved behind the doctor see the readout for himself, “regardless of either parents’ decisions. If Loki further dishonors you yet you wish to raise it yourself, you will want for nothing, all your days.”

Zoe arched a brow at the patriarch. “Thanks, but I can provide for myself, and I meant if we didn’t want to be parents yet at all. I mean, we still don’t know what HYDRA did to me, messing around with my DNA, OM strands, whatever. And you said the baby’s the same way, right?” She looked to the doctor for confirmation.

The woman nodded. “But I see no chromosomal instability. Somehow, your unique genetics have combined with Prince Loki’s to create a healthy, thriving baby. Indeed, congratulations are in order.”

“Thor, go retrieve your brother,” Odin said softly, before turning and sweeping from the room. Thor followed him, and they held a quick, quiet conversation before they both disappeared from sight.

“Don’t mind me,” Zoe said sarcastically to herself. “I’ll just wait here.” She rolled her eyes and tried to shift a little more comfortably on the table. She asked the doctor, “So, uh, can you tell anything else about my ‘OM strands’? Like what the third one might be doing to me?”

“That I can’t tell you.” The female doctor smiled apologetically at her failure to provide a satisfactory answer. “It does seem to have elevated you to a higher race. You don’t have to lay here; if you wish, you can move to a chair. Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“That sounds like a good idea.” She hopped off the table and stretched, feeling too antsy to sit back down again. “I get grumpy when I’m hungry and I have a feeling I’m going to be biting my tongue off in the next couple of hours already.”

Verun hovered near her, silent and contemplative. After a moment, she said, “How seriously are you considering ending your condition?” It was a blunt question for the sorceress but she was unsettled today.

“I don’t know,” Zoe frowned. “I don’t if I want to be a mother yet and I don’t want to saddle a kid with messed up DNA. It’s not just my call, though. This is Loki’s kid, too. Though I still want to strangle him for the whole ‘don’t worry, we’re not genetically compatible’ line. Not his fault that HYDRA played Jenga with my nucleotides, but still. I feel like some air-headed teenager that thought ‘oh, that could never happen to _me_ ’.”

“It wasn’t a line.” Verun stared at the now-dark exam table. “It’s common knowledge, Zoe. You have transcended humanity; the child proves it. There is no reason to think that a mortal and any of the longer-lived races could create life together. I envy you, in a way.”

“Because Bucky’s human?” Zoe asked softly.

“Yes. If you and Loki become more than you are, your transformation will mean that you can share your remaining millenia together.” She closed her green eyes. “If not, you will have the time to find the one you will want.”

“Wait, what? ‘ _Millenia’?_ ’ Zoe asked, startled.

“The Aesir live on average five thousand years; the Vanir and Jotan only a century or so shorter.” Verun smiled. “You seem close in relative age to him, and he’s only a thousand years old.”

“And you think that whatever HYDRA did to me is going to do that?” She bit her lip and nervously worried at the hem of her shirt. “We need to tell everyone that when we get home. If HYDRA can make people live for thousands of years, that’s. . . not good. Since they’ll probably just use it on their own people. Unless all the tech and knowledge to do it was wiped out with the base.” She sighed. “Man, the world is sorta stupidly complicated at times. It’s just _exhausting_.”

“It might not be HYDRA’s meddling,” Verun pointed out softly. “They wanted you for your burgeoning mental abilities. Perhaps whatever caused that is responsible for your ascension.” Her thoughts were clear on her face: if that was why Zoe had been granted longer life, then it was not available for Bucky.

“Yeah, but that begs the question then: why do I have powers? That doesn’t come with standard human package, y’know? And I can’t be a half-breed or something with one of the ‘higher’ races because the whole point is that that’s not possible.” She gave an annoyed huff, “And the whole DNA thing, it obviously wasn’t there from the start since it was all fragmentary just a few weeks ago and now it’s not. So, why would that suddenly happen?”

She scrubbed at her face, doing her best to stay level-headed. “I was a normal person four years ago and now I’m telepathic, telekinetic, pregnant by an alien prince, and apparently going to live way longer than Social Security is going to want to pay for.”

Verun frowned, unsure why a security would need to be social but she was used to not knowing things on Midgard. She’d ask Bucky; if he didn’t know, they could go to the library together and research it. “I suspect many other mortals would like to be burdened by your life,” she added drily.

Whatever else she was going to say was cut off as Loki and Thor entered. “I see Odin hasn’t dissected you yet,” the dark-haired prince said, coming to Zoe’s side. “Has be been his usual unbearable self?”

She shrugged, tilting her head from side to side; she smiled, though, relieved to have him here with her. “I think you’re going to catch the brunt of his displeasure on this one. I’ll just be over here. With popcorn. And a bookie.”

“I think you mean ‘cookie’,” Loki told her with a hint of smugness. “And Odin doesn’t scare me.”

“Ooh, that too!” she said with a grin. _Though if Odin doesn’t scare you at least a little, Loki, you’re kind of an idiot._ She didn’t vocalize the second part; it would just put Loki in a bad mood. “Does Asgard have oatmeal raisin cookies?”

“No.” Loki made a face, as he did when she mentioned any Midgardian sweet treat. “I’ll have the kitchens make you something--”

“Later.” Odin interrupted them by entering the room, glancing meaningfully at the doctor. She bowed her head to the king and left the room. “Loki, the child is yours. What is your intention?”


	72. Therapy and Contraceptives

“To take Zoe back to Midgard.” He’d just realized that he finally had something Odin wanted again, and he wasn’t about to let the chance pass him by. The AllFather stared at him for a long moment and Loki added, “I don’t know. I’ve barely had a chance to consider what it will all mean. For now, I’m taking Zoe home.”

“Tomorrow.” Odin smiled but it wasn’t a reassuring expression. “Stay here. Thor can bring his wife, and we can eat together.”

“What are you planning, Odin?” Loki narrowed his eyes at the man who’d raised him.

“Are you afraid to eat with your family?” the king asked.

“I am not, but that doesn’t mean that I _want_ to eat with the people who lied to me for my entire childhood.”

Behind him, Zoe rolled her eyes. She got he had issues with being adopted, but _seriously_. Apparently Asgard had about as good a concept of therapy as they did of contraceptives. _And here a lifetime of baggage could range longer than most of human history._

“Father, some time to regroup might be wise,” Thor suggested as humbly as he could manage, which wasn’t very.

His words seemed to get through to Odin, who merely said, “Very well. I’d like a moment of privacy with Zoe before you go.”

 _Oh, great_ , she thought, but she nodded to Loki when he looked to her for what she wanted to do. “Sure,” she said aloud.

After she was reluctantly left alone with the king, he studied her for a moment. “You are welcome in Asgard, whenever you wish. I’ll let Heimdall know that you can call on him for use of the Bifrost.”

“Thank you,” Zoe said sincerely, a little startled at the offer. She wasn’t likely to take him up on it without Loki along as well, but still, it was nice that he was giving her a ‘Bifrost pass’.

“You are welcome.” He smiled and for the first time, it wasn’t mocking or mean. “You don’t understand what you’ve gained, yet. If you have questions, my subjects will answer them at your request.”

“What do you mean, ‘what I’ve gained’?” She was trying to not sound suspicious or snappish, but she was also _really_ tired of feeling like the slow person in the room.

“Not just longevity, but membership into a new world.” Odin watched her as he spoke, and she knew he was judging every reaction that passed over her expression. “The freedom to use the Bifrost means you’ll have access to realms other mortals can only dream of.”

She crossed her arms, looking away from him in pensive thought. “That’s nice, but I’m not just going to run off on some lark while my friends work their asses off to save the universe. If I really do have a bajillion-year long lifespan now, there will time for that later.” She sighed and rubbed a hand along her her temple. “And none of this explains what’s going on with me, not really. Why did I suddenly develop telekinetic powers? What does this third DNA strand mean for the baby? How did it change me to be compatible with Loki? Was the purpose for me to be able to conceive a child with ‘higher species’ DNA? If Loki and I do decide to go ahead with the pregnancy, I don’t want the kid to end up being a genetic HYDRA sleeper agent or something.”

“You’ll have Asgardian medical care to offset that possibility.” Odin’s manner became more earnest as he explained, “OM surgery is routine, and can be done prior to birth. As for your own questions, the resources of Asgard are at your disposal. I ask only one thing of you.”

Her eyes slid back to him; she’d heard enough from both Loki and Thor to be wary. “And what would that be?”

His single eye bore into hers; Zoe was glad he only had _one_ of them left because dealing with two orbs of that intensity would have been difficult. “I have lost my wife, and my youngest son’s love. I ask that you not take my first grandchild from me.”

“I. . . ,” Zoe swallowed, unprepared for the rather raw request. Finally she shook her head softly and said, “I can’t give you a guarantee on what we’ll decide. I have to talk to Loki first. I’m sorry, I know that’s not the answer you’re looking for, but I think you’d hate me more if I just lied to you about it.”

“I don’t hate you.” The look on his face suggested that she hadn’t been worthy of his hate. “Call Heimdall when you need. Safe travels, Zoe.”

She bit back a dozen comments about passive-aggressive behavior, backhanded compliments, and therapists, managing to nod and say only, “Thank you, your majesty.” She also took the cue to leave with a great deal of relief and made her way out to where the others were waiting for her. She burrowed into Loki’s side without thinking and murmured, “So, can we go home now?”

 A guard stared at them; after a moment, Loki put his arm around her and stared back at the man. The guard looked away as the oblivious Thor escorted them out of the castle, eager to get them out of the city. They were all the way out to the bridge before he spoke. “Are all of you well? Is there anything you require?” He didn’t direct his question but Zoe had the feeling he was asking her, not the twins.

"I just want to go home," she repeated tiredly. "Loki and I need to talk and figure out what we're going to do."

"Do you need--" The God of Thunder stopped with uncharacteristic uncertainty, looking at a loss for words. "I am available, if you need counsel."

Once back in Sanctuary, Thor excused himself after a pointed glare from Loki; Verun needed no such prodding and Zoe and Loki were once again alone in Loki's suite. Zoe curled up on the couch and regarded her jotun lover. "So. . ."

“I don’t know.” He sat next to her, his eyes on his folded hands. “All I know is that since it is mine, I don’t want it to die.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. Well, that settles a few questions at least." She rubbed her hand over her midsection, wondering what it was going to feel like in a few months. _One step at a time._ "Do you want to be involved in raising the child at all?"

Loki took her hand; his fingers were cold. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine being a-- a father.” He swallowed hard. “I truly believed that this was impossible, Zoe.”

Zoe gave him a rueful smile. “Yeah, I know. That’s why you’re not being made into Loki-mincemeat at the moment. It’s not just your fault, either; I could have insisted on condoms. I didn’t. And none of the matters _now_.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I still don’t know what _I_ want to do, but Odin did offer to raise the kid if we didn’t want to.”

Loki snorted irritably. “Of course he does. He’d love another shot at raising the heir he wants so desperately.”

Zoe covered her face with her hand. “I want to take every therapist on Earth and force them to do a ten year tour of Asgard. With hazard pay. Especially for those dealing with the royal family.” She looked up him, and held out her hands, “Make a decision, love. Either you’re going to step up and be a father, or someone else is going to have to. There’s not a magic bullet here that gets you off the hook without involving others.”

“I’m only a thousand!” He surged to his feet, his face twisted in a mixture of dismay and horror. “I’m too young to be a father!”

“I’m twenty six!” she shot back sarcastically. “Get over it!”

“I can’t decide this right now!” He pressed his face into his hands and took a deep breath. When he finally looked up, he was calmer.

“Well,” she replied drolly, “you’ve got seven months, give or take a few weeks, to figure it out.”

He looked confused. “You said you were two months. That means you have twenty-two more to go.”

Her eyes widened and she fought back panic. “Wait, your species gestates for _two years_?”

He blinked thoughtfully. “Well _Aesir_ do. Perhaps it’s different for jotun. Though Vanir are probably close to two as well. Zoe, I have no idea how long.”

She buried her head in her hands. “Loki, you better _pray_ I’m not pregnant for two years. For _your_ sake. Humans gestate for nine months and _that_ is terrifying enough. Oh my god, my life is so weird.”

“Your life has fared better than mine did when it changed,” her jotun lover replied. He studied her a moment, then said, “You should sleep.”

She wanted to argue, but she _was_ tired - and if the ups and downs on her body temperature were pregnancy related, it seemed like she might be sleep deprived for the next several _years_. “Stay with me until I fall asleep?” she asked, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

“Yes,” he agreed, rising and pulling her up with him. He helped her into bed, curling around her and lending the cool touch of his body to her overheated skin. After a moment, he said, “You called me ‘love’.”

She pressed against him, some of the tension draining out of her as her body used his to find a comfortable temperature. “I did,” she said quietly. _I spent too much time in England_ , she thought to herself. _But it’s true, too. He drives me up the wall and I want to smack him half the time, but if he left. . ._ He had an arm over her and she intertwined her fingers with his. “Do you not want me to?”

“I don’t mind.” His warm breath caressed her hair. “I wanted to know if you meant it or not. Humans sometimes use words oddly.”

“I do,” she murmured, wondering what that would mean to Loki. She could read him better than others, but he was still a mystery much of the time.

“Huh. How odd.” He was silent a moment. “Thank you.”

She deserved entire brownies by now, not just points. She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his skin. “It’s not odd to me. Almost as intimidating as being pregnant,” she said with a smile in her words, “but not odd.”

“I never thought I’d hear someone tell me that.” He chuckled softly. “At least, not and have me believe it.”

She turned on the bed and kissed his chest, grinning impishly at him. “Don’t worry, I just want you for your body. And your accent.”

“Perhaps in the future you should avoid the former,” he told her, but he smiled as he kissed her.

“No point now,” she countered, nipping at his lip. “I can’t get double pregnant.”

“Well, you’ll stop being pregnant at _some_ point,” he said. “I mean, it could be years, but you won’t be gestating forever.” He paused, his lips twitching in restrained humor. “I think.”

“Loki,” she said in a low, dangerous voice as she pushed him onto his back and straddled his legs. She grinned in malevolent humor, “If I’m pregnant for forever long, I _will_ find a way to share that joy with you. I’m sure the Vanir or someone have a spell for male pregnancy. That or I’ll make you wear the pregnancy belly.”

“The _what_?” he asked, putting his hands on her hips. “Why does Midgard seem to excel in making the most awful things?”

She laughed at his expression, “Feminism, mostly. We liberated women have a wicked sense of humor - and a sweet tooth.” She laid down on his chest, wrapping her arms around him; he felt good and she never did the temperature merry-go-round when he was in bed with her. “So, I didn’t have them tell me the sex of the baby, though Odin obviously looked. Do you want to know?”

His chest heaved in a dramatic sigh. “I don’t know. I think I should decide whether I want it in my life before I become concerned with details about it. I’m not sure I deserve to know until I know if I’m interested.” He sighed again. “I feel like I’m babbling like a mortal.”

“Luckily, I know a cure for that,” Zoe said, leaning up enough to capture his lips with her own. That was a good enough answer for both of them, and they turned to one another for comfort once again.


	73. Teamwork

“Avengers, please grab your gear and report to the exit.” JARVIS’s command rang through earpieces all across Sanctuary, prompting a scramble of activity. Less than five minutes later, the group had gathered, along with the Guardians and the Avengers’ significant others.

“What’s happening?” Thor asked, looking regal and protective with his arm around Jane. His new wife had a white-knuckled grip on his armor, but her expression was firmly resolved.

“Hammer. He’s got some Iron Suits inbound to Polygon Industries,” Tony announced, popping up a holographic map to show a red dot converging on a small town outside Shreveport, Louisiana. “They’re a soft target specializing in the manufacture of prosthetic limbs, with no real military value and no ties to Stark Industries. The manager even received an _anonymous phone call_ at six-forty this morning giving him ample warning him of the attack. In other words, boys and girls: it’s a trap. Thor?”

“Using a Quinjet, we can arrive just after they do,” Thor began, picking up the silent request to strategize. “Emma and I will be paired in the combat, so that if he has non-metal ones there, she cannot be overwhelmed--”

“Thanks for that reminder,” Tony interrupted, passing out small earpieces. “Everyone take two, and put one in each ear. These should protect against the sonic attacks they tried on Emma last time. Since I know most of you can’t regrow eardrums--” he dropped Emma’s into her hand and gave her a wink, “--these should block the damage.”

Thor nodded in acknowledgement, but picked back up immediately where Tony had cut him off. “Natasha and Bucky, Tony and Verun, Peter and Gamora, and Drax, Rocket, and Groot. We’ll approach from the east--”

“What of me, Thor?” Loki stood behind the group, half in shadows. “Whom shall be my battle brother? Or sister, of course.”

There was a moment of silence as Thor waited for objections. When none came, he looked quickly to Tony to see if he were paying attention, but the inventor didn’t look addled. Likewise, Natasha was watching quietly, not objecting. “I wasn’t aware you wished to fight with us, brother.” Thor commented, though his tone reflected his approval. He was quiet for a moment, shuffling people around in his mind to determine the best battle partner for his brother’s wily fighting style.

“Let’em fight with Drax,” Rocket piped up. “Groot ‘n I can take care of ourselves.”

“Good suggestion, my small friend,” Thor responded, ignoring the murderous glare from the raccoon.“We have a plan. Let us mount our Quinjet and go.”

Jane pulled on his arm until he gave her a kiss. “Go get ‘em, hon.” She stood on tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “You better come back safe.”

“I will,” he vowed to her.

“Kick their asses,” Zoe said as she pulled Loki in for tight kiss. She grinned when she released him and teased, “ _Hammer’s_.” She didn’t tell him to be safe or to come back - this was combat, it was by definition dangerous and she wouldn’t have him making empty promises. Instead, she commanded, “Never let them see you coming and rip them to bits, okay?”

“Two things I’m good at,” he assured her, studying her face, aware it might be the last time he’d see her. That was the moment he knew he’d marry her, if she ever wanted to do that. Slightly stunned by his internal revelation, he kissed her fiercely and stepped onto the lift.

To the side, Clint put a hand on Natasha’s shoulder. “Watch your head out there,” he said.

She smiled and gave him a quick hug. “You better hope I do. If something happens to me, you’re the adult responsible for James.” She laughed at his horrified look and stepped onto the lift just as it whirred to life.

“It’s just a baby,” Emma teased gently as the metal platform carried them upwards.

“Now. Someday he’ll be a _teenager_.” Clint shuddered. “Guh.”

The lift took them from the mechanical bay where the Maria Beta was docked to the hangar bay on the surface, which was safely disguised by the surrounding ranch and countryside as storage for regional crop dusting or rescue planes. There were several methods of transportation stored within, both surface and air, and Tony led them past the smaller Quinjet that was their usual mode of transportation and over to a slightly larger version.

“We’re taking Big Q today,” he stated as the ramp lowered and he stepped up to board. “JARVIS, are you monitoring satellites for Hammer’s approach?”

“I am, Sir. No obvious activity yet in the immediate vicinity around Shreveport, but I have picked up on a small fleet of fast-moving objects that just departed from a Hammer-Tech facility outside of Houston.” There was a moment of silence, punctuated only by the sound of people settling into seats and the clicking noises of straps being buckled, before the A.I. spoke up again to confirm. “Looks like they are headed due east, Sir.”

“Sounds like those are our guys,” Stark replied as he settled into the pilot’s chair and began flipping switches. Emma slipped into the co-pilot’s seat to assist, and the Quinjet roared to life as the hangar bay doors began to open. Within moments they were in the air and headed southeast, towards Louisiana and Polygon Industries.

“It shouldn’t be long,” Tony murmured quietly to Emma. Behind them, the Avengers were bringing the Guardians up to speed on Hammer, his variations on the Iron Suits, and the recent events regarding Emma and the nanites. He glanced over at her, studying her profile carefully for a moment before finally speaking. “You ready for this fight?”

“Sure,” she replied briskly, doing her best to conceal her nervousness. Her fingers moved across the touchscreen in front of her, flipping between different satellite images of Shreveport and the area immediately surrounding the manufacturing plant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well,” Tony replied, drawing out the word so that his sarcasm was evident, “It might have something to do with the fact that last time we--”

“That’s strange,” she interrupted, cutting him off mid-sentence as she zoomed in on one of the satellite images that  had transmitted to the ship’s display.

“JARVIS, take over for a minute,” the billionaire responded, leaning over to look at her screen. “What’s up, Em?”

“I was just looking at some of the thermal images,” she replied, gesturing to a spot a couple of miles away from their destination. “See this building? It’s a storage facility near Polygon, one of those places where you pay money every month to store stuff, you know? It should be mostly abandoned, maybe a few small heat signatures. But it’s not. It’s lit up like a Christmas tree,” she finished with a small frown.

“Yeah… that is weird.” Tony scowled in response as she flipped through several more images. “JARVIS, can you get a closer image of that in real-time?”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but the thermal signatures appear to be coming from inside the building. I can send in a drone to assess the situation,” the program offered helpfully, but Tony shook his head.

“Do it,” he instructed, straightening up and resuming control of the Quinjet. “But take your time and keep it discreet. If it involves Hammer, I’d rather not tip them off that we know about it.”

The next few minutes were spent in tense silence as the group of heroes approached Shreveport. Finally, not more than a few minutes out from their destination, JARVIS finally spoke up again. “Targets entering the Greater Shreveport area, Sir. I count twenty units altogether, a mixture of the They appear to be heading directly towards the Polygon Industries facility.”

“Then it is time to meet our foe in battle,” Thor responded, his hand tightening on Mjolnir. Tony turned the jet slightly, dropping it down lower as they began to skim alongside the city. Emma climbed out of the co-pilot’s seat and stepped up next to him as he hit the button and the ramp began to open. “Hammer’s warriors may be formidably equipped, but we are the more powerful combatants. Fight well, fight hard, fight together, and we will not be defeated!”

“Great speech, Shakespeare,” Tony quipped lightly, reaching for weapon controls. “Hope you’re ready to back it up. We’ve got incoming!”

He swiveled the Quinjet’s turret guns around and began to fire at the approaching targets. The first wave was a trio of Suits, one made of plastic and the other two of metal. The blond thunder god and the red-haired metalmaster shared a brief glance, and with a nod they both leapt out of the plane and into the fray. Thor aimed Mjolnir and flew directly at one of the metal-clad combatants. Emma twisted around and grabbed ahold of the other with her powers, sending it spinning into the plastic suit at the head of the formation. The two Suits collided and went flying in opposite directions, struggling to right themselves as Mjolnir struck their comrade with the force of Thor’s will behind it and sent him flying backwards.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Rocket yelled, pulling out his gun as Groot lifted him up onto his shoulder. The feisty raccoon cackled happily as the plane neared ground level, and a second group of Iron Suits aimed at the open cockpit and began to fire. “Let’s show these tin-can humies what we’ve got!”

“I am Groot!” the sentient plant-alien responded almost gleefully, and jumped the last few feet out of the jet as well. He landed with a heavy thud that shook the ground as Rocket opened fire on the suits. The Iron Suits kept firing but took a couple steps back, startled by such unusual foes. Groot took advantage of their surprise,snaking a vine out and wrapped around around one the leg of the nearest Suit. The man inside had only a moment to glanced down in confusion before Groot jerked him up off the ground and slammed him down into the concrete.

Two by two, the rest of Sanctuary’s fighting ensemble poured out of the Quinjet and began to engage in battle against Hammer’s fleet of Iron Suits. It was an even split of the two types, metal and plastic, and it wasn’t long before Tony’s ear protection came in handy.

The first sonic attack was directed at Emma once they registered that she was still a part of the Avengers’ fighting force. She saw the weapon as it popped out of the metal gauntlet and braced herself against the blast, pushing down the instinctive surge of panic that shot through her at the sight. When the Suit fired it off she was still pushed back several feet from the concussive force of the blast, but the ear protection absorbed almost all the actual noise for her, since her hearing wasn’t completely recovered. The bright blip of the sound register on her glasses, which she was still wearing, was the most noticeable indicator. She laughed at his startled expression, her eyes narrowing fiercely at him as she flung her metal staves towards him. He twisted out of the way of them just in time to make contact with the business end of Mjolnir.

“Are you alright, Emma?” Tony’s words flickered across her vision even as she heard them via the ear protector, which apparently doubled as a communication device.

“Just fine, boss. Point Break to the rescue,” she responded with a wink at Thor. “They still pack a punch, though, so brace yourselves.”

“Or roll with the punches,” Natasha replied, fluidly dodging a hail of gunfire from one of the plastic suits. The trail of bullets chased her across the industrial battlefield until the man behind the mask finally tired of her agile escapes. As he deployed the sonic weapon, the Black Widow dropped down into a crouched position with a sharp yell, and the Winter Soldier leapt over her. He landed in front of her and threw the vibranium shield of Captain America up in front of them both just as the sonic blast went off. Bucky shuddered at the impact but the maneuver worked, deflecting the force of the impact back at the Suit and blowing him backwards just in time to connect with Thor’s massive warhammer.

“Nice move, Cap,” Peter chimed in, firing off a couple shots in the direction of one of the metal suits. It dodged them easily but the burst of energy from the extra-terrestrial weapon drew the Suit’s attention. It twisted around in mid-air and fired a concussive burst from its palm-mounted repulsor weapon that knocked the weapon out of the Star Lord’s hand. Then it flew straight for him, and Quill’s eyes widened slightly as he turned and started to run, calling out for backup. It arrived in the form of Gamora, who launched herself onto the shoulders of the metal suit and grabbed hold. There was a brief struggle as the bulky flying machine tried to free itself from the cybernetically-enhanced alien, but it ended when Gamora pulled a blade and shoved it deep into the flying machinery’s shoulder joint. The pilot inside let out a scream of pain and took a spinning dive, and the green-skinned alien woman launched herself backwards just in time to avoid the crash.

“These weaponized suits are not as well built as yours, Tony Stark,” Gamora replied as she landed, grabbing Peter’s Quad Blaster off the ground and tossing it at him. He caught it smoothly, but instead of holstering it he aimed and fired twice over her shoulder with the top barrel, hitting another Iron Suit square in the chest with the energy beam. The weapon fried the suit’s mechanical systems, sending it crashing to the ground helplessly.

“Well, they are Hammer’s,” Tony replied sardonically as he fired off a couple of small-scale rockets at one of the plastic Suits. One of them landed, blasting the Suit backwards, but the polymer it was made from seemed resistant to a standard small-arms explosion. “JARVIS, how many of these posers do we have left to polish off?”

“I count at least ten remaining, Sir. However, I’m afraid I must alert you to another problem,” the A.I. responded gravely. “The heat signatures from the storage facility you requested me to monitor have started moving in your direction. I am magnifying them on the satellite imagery and forwarding them to your visual display now.”

“Sure thing, buddy,” the genius inventor replied. There was a moment of intercom silence as the images were transmitted to Tony and he got a good look at what was going on, then he let out an emphatic swear. “Damnit! Guys, we’ve got incoming, about a dozen or so.”

“Incoming what, Stark?” Loki replied sharply, his sarcasm transmitting through the communicator. “Or would you like us to start offering up our best conjectures?”

“Modified monsters,” Tony replied, for once bypassing the smart-ass rebuttal. “Just like in Tibet.”


	74. Battlefields

“What?” Emma’s startled voice rang through the communicator to the rest of the team. “But that’s not possible! Those are HYDRA creations, how did Hammer get ahold of them?”

“I don’t know,” Tony replied grimly, “But apparently he did. A lot of the same, a few we haven’t seen.”

“What are these creatures you’re discussing?” Gamora’s sharp tone cut through the heavy silence, and was punctuated by the sound of energy blasts as she managed to aggressively manipulate another suit into Peter’s line of fire. “We were not at this Battle of Tibet you speak of.”

“Bioengineered creatures, combinations of existing animals from Earth but much larger,” Emma replied breathlessly as she flipped around and threw her metal staves at one of the plastic suits. It was more important than ever to reduce their numbers now. “Like a bear and a tiger, or a spider and a praying mantis.”

“I am not familiar with any of these creatures,” Drax replied with a grunt, reaching up and grabbing hold of one of the metal flying men. So far the tattooed, battle-hardened warrior was less than impressed with his assigned battle partner’s physical prowess, but it didn’t seem to matter. The metal men kept throwing themselves directly towards him, apparently as eager for this combat as he was after having been cooped up in the Earthling’s underground sanctuary for so long.

Having just used one illusion to lure another Iron Suit into the Destroyer’s path, Loki threw up a second one that caused two more of the Hammer Suit pilots to see the other as Stark’s suit instead. They took aim and fired with all they had, which resulted in both of them effectively blasting their metal-clad ally out of the sky. “It matters little,” the master manipulator replied with an almost-amused tone in his voice. Up until now he would’ve sworn Thor was the most mindless tool of brute destruction in the galaxy, but fighting with the muscle-bound Guardian was causing him to reevaluate that assessment. “Just avoid the pointy bits and keep stabbing them. You should do fine.”

“I have detected three aerial signatures amongst them,” JARVIS informed them.

Verun, feeling the shift in Tony’s battle strategy through the one-way mental link she had established with him as a fighting partner, finished off her current opponent with a well-placed thrust of her spear. She then spun around and stepped between the metal-suited Avenger and his foe, swiping viciously at the Hammer agent with the business end of her weapon even as she reached into his mind in order to anticipate his attacks. “I have him, Stark. You’re free to investigate.”

“That never stops being creepy, Cruella,” Tony replied as he disengaged from the battle. He launched himself back up into the air, however, and shot off in the direction of the approaching horde. After a moment, his voice filtered back in over the communicators. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Don’t keep us hangin’, rich boy,” Rocket chimed in over the sound of gunfire. “Or we’ll be figuring it out on our own.”

“Looks like someone’s been spending too much time in the fantasy section. We’ve definitely got a dragon; the other two of these things have three heads, bat wings, and I think the tail is a snake.”

“That would be a chimera, Sir,” JARVIS replied helpfully. “A hybrid monster with roots in greek mythology.”

“Fantastic,” the billionaire replied sardonically. “Thor, Emma, I’ve got Smaug. I need you two to go all Hercules and Xena up in here, got it?”

“He means the chimera,” Emma replied before Thor had a chance to ask. “We’ve got it, Tony.”

“Great,” he replied as he readied his heavy-duty ammunition. The creatures had seen him now and were picking up speed; he fired off a couple of missiles that exploded as they impacted against the creature’s scaled hide. He then veered upwards at the last minute, drawing the bat/lizard combination up and away from the other two. Verun watched him go with irritation. She glanced around, then joined Loki and Drax’s fighting cluster, quietly linking to her twin’s mind.

Meanwhile, Emma waved a hand lightly across the tips of her spears, twisting the metal ends into points resembling a javelin. “Take the one on the right, and let’s try to get them out of the sky,” she called out to the blond Asgardian as she took aim and threw. The staff went spinning through the air, directed more by Emma’s magnokinetic powers than by the skill of her throw, and pierced the thin membrane of the creature’s bat-shaped wing. The multi-headed mythological terror let out three different angry shrieks at the same time and floundered, as Emma took aim and sent the other one sailing as well. Thor went flying after the third one with Mjolnir, and in short order all of the aerial creatures were either on the ground or fleeing the area.                                                                                    

By that time the rest of the beasts had arrived on the scene, and the grounded members of the combined fighting force suddenly had their hands full as well. Bullets and energy blasts flew through the air as Avenger and Guardian alike were assaulted by the monstrous hybrids. There were several of the same creatures that had been in Tibet, but there were at least a couple that were new. They mirrored the mythological origins of the flying creatures: a giant vicious three-headed dog, a massive horse with the sharp teeth of a carnivore, and even a gigantic snake with oddly glowing eyes.

“These things are seriously creepy!” Peter called out, stumbling back from the tri-headed mutt. It had advanced on him with a low growl and then tossed back two of it’s heads and let out a long, piercing howl. It had been a very long time since he’d heard the growl of a vicious dog, but the Star Lord was quite certain that wasn’t what they were supposed to sound like. It echoed eerily in a way that reminded him of ghost stories from his youth, and yet had a screeching tone to it like the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

“So kill them quickly!” Gamora replied from somewhere close by, but Peter was too busy to look around for her.

The trio of heads had started to lunge at him, their sharp teeth snapping down on thin air as he managed to dodge their attacks. “I’m trying!” he shot back.

“Sounds like you guys need a little help down there.” Tony’s voice crackled to life again over the connection. “Hang on, Space Boy. You’ve got incoming.”

Stark flew past in his metal suit, unleashing a couple missiles in the beast’s direction. Peter dropped into a somersault, rolling backwards away from the explosion. He ended the smooth maneuver in a crouched position and looked up, straight into the pulsating silvery-gold gaze of the giant python.

Gamora glanced over at him just in time. The snake had opened it’s mouth wide, long fangs protruding from it’s top and bottom jaws, and was about to lunge at the wide-eyed space pilot. With only a heartbeat to react the green-skinned woman lunged at Peter, knocking him out of the way of the attack and breaking his gaze with the serpentine creature.

“What in the hell was that?” Peter demanded angrily, scrambling back up and trying to figure out what had just happened.

“I don’t know, but it was trying to eat you and you were just staring at it like an idiot,” Gamora responded sharply.

“Some sort of biological hypnosis, from the sounds of it,” Emma responded from the skies above. “You might want to pass on future staring contests.”

“Why would you participate in a staring contest with a wild beast?” Drax chimed in over the intercom.

Peter let out a pained sigh in response. “It’s kind of an expression--”

Suddenly there was a loud whistle from nearby. The snake whipped its head around in response, and two large knives went spinning through the air towards the creature’s eyes. They landed in their targets, causing the serpent to let out an angry hiss of pain as it thrashed wildly in response to the attack.

“There,” Drax commented, “Now it is incapable of participating in staring contests with anyone.”

“I’d say,” Natasha responded wryly as she and Bucky moved in and opened fire, finishing the creature off in a hail of bullets.

The fighting continued, but gradually the three teams on the ground found themselves being pulled apart. It was a subtle maneuvering, but Loki became aware of it when he saw a winged man drop from among the aerial monsters to the ground near Natasha and Bucky. By then, he was too far away to do more than curse and start to run, heedless of dangers to himself.

Verun saw where he was going, and with an irritated sigh, _Men. Why can they not keep to a battle plan?_ She shouted, “Drax!” When the giant man turned, she gestured and the two followed Loki, covering his back as best they could.

The winged man pointed a gun at Natasha, taking his time to aim. He took too long; Loki closed and stabbed him in the back of his HYDRA uniform, his knife sliding up between ribs to his heart. The man staggered forward, then turned and saw the jotun holding the bloody knife. The former lieutenant smirked oddly, then collapsed to the ground.

Satisfied that the widow of Steve Rogers was safe, Loki turned back to Verun and Drax, rejoining their combat just in time to steal the killing blow on a fearsome bear. “Do try to keep up,” he chided smugly as he put up an illusion that caused two great wolves to attack one another.

The battle raged on, but the Avengers and the Guardians working together were more than a match for the combatants. Natasha was just starting to think that they were almost clear when a winged corpse at her feet hopped up and hit her with a taser.

She’d worn armor for guns, one that Tony had upgraded with an inlaid wire mesh designed to turn aside blades. There were fewer protections for electricity but the wires did dissipate the charge enough to prevent her heart from stopping. It couldn’t do much more as the volts fried through her nerves, locking her up and then dropping her to the ground. “I need to speak with your friend,” the HYDRA man told her as she shuddered on the ground. He pointed a pistol at her, only to be tackled by Bucky.

“Leave her alone!” Bucky shouted, slamming the shield into the man’s face.

“Very well, Winter Soldier.” He smiled coldly and added, “ _Vyklyuchite, soldat_.”

Bucky felt his will washing away; he tried to scream for Verun, for her strong mind, but all that escaped was a whimper. Instead, he stood at rest in front of the HYDRA agent, silent and waiting.

“I am Stefan Gerig, your new keeper.” He studied the red, white, and blue uniform with bright blue eyes. “But you can keep the new costume. I find it deliciously ironic.”

“No,” Bucky said.

The word surprised both of them; Gerig raised a pale gold eyebrow. “How interesting. You’ve reinforced your will.” He jerked a chin at Natasha’s helpless form. “Kill her.”

Bucky thought of Steve and James, and the word came faster, with heat in the tone. “Never.”

“Well, this isn’t going to work as well as I hoped.” Gerig sighed, removing his hat and dusting the brim. His hair glinted red and gold as he asked, “Where is Zoe Satelle?”

This request was harder to fight against, so he couldn’t speak. Bucky just stared at him, trying to free himself, thinking as loudly as he could. Gerig caught him by the chin. “Kneel, soldier.”

Bucky’s knees folded and he found himself in front of the man, gazing up at him. Gerig still held his chin, though he cradled it more gently. “I don’t want to hurt the girl,” Gerig said softly. “I just want to make her a goddess.”

“Crazy,” he rasped, forcing the word through tight teeth.

“Some would call me that.” Gerig sighed. “You’re unhelpful, Winter Soldier. I expected more.” Magnificent wings spread behind HYDRA officer’s back, glorious golden pinons casting Bucky in cold shadow. “You could have been my Tỳr.”

The officer raised a gun and Bucky looked into the barrel, preferring this over killing another innocent. _I’m sorry, Verun_ , he thought.

Natasha slammed into Gerig just in time. She was still mostly non-functional, but she had gotten her legs back. It was enough to knock the shot aside and send the HYDRA soldier stumbling for several steps. The Black Widow fell to her knees next to Bucky, panting heavily, her arms hanging mostly useless. He pointed the gun at them again but a hammer slammed into him, throwing him back a dozen yards. This time when he staggered to his feet, he glanced around, realizing two things at once: several of the Avengers and their alien companions were now focused on him, and the rest of his attack force was defeated. He threw himself into the air and flew away from the combat without another word.

“Want me to follow Angel-boy?” Tony’s question was loud in the sudden calm after battle.

Thor watched him disappear into the sky. “Nay. We have injured and I would not leave them here.”

“And he’s _fast_ ,” Peter added, his voice filled with a touch of awe.

“Let’s clean up then,” Tony replied, “and get everyone out of here.” 


	75. Sloppy

Clint opened the door to the conference room and stepped inside. Emma was sitting near the head of the table tapping quietly at her laptop, and she offered him a tired smile when he nodded at her. When he opened his mouth to speak, however, she held up a finger in the commonly-recognized gesture of ‘just a minute’.

“And you’re keeping the area clear in the meantime? Good. Yeah, we’re going to see what they have to say about it in just a few minutes.” She was quiet for several moments, the sound of her fingers moving across the keys the only noise in the room. “No problem, we’re glad we could help. You too. Thanks.”

She reached up and pulled the wireless device out of her ear and sat it down on the table as Clint poured himself a cup of coffee. “You know, we could set you up with a real office if you need it,” he commented.

“No, I’m fine. I spend so much time in the labs anyway, I don’t need a room just to make phone calls from,” she replied. “How’s Tasha?”

“She’s okay. She’d shaken off most of the effects of the stun gun by the time you guys made it back here, but I insisted she get a bit of rest before the debriefing. She should be here any minute,” he said, even as the door opened again and the red-haired assassin walked in next to Thor, looking relatively unscathed. They left the door open, and a moment later Bucky and Verun entered together. Bucky looked significantly worse for wear than Natasha, not in the physical sense, but from the haunted expression in his eyes. Even more telling, Verun had her arm tucked around his, despite the couple’s tendency to totally abstain from PDA.

The Black Widow caught Verun’s gaze for a moment and the two women shared a concerned glance, as did Clint and Emma upon watching the exchange. No one said anything, however, deeming it best to wait until they got through the debriefing.

The rest of the group filtered in over the next few minutes. Loki arrived with Zoe, and Phil followed them in. For once all three seemed to be of a same mind about something, since they were all sporting similar uneasy expressions. Peter, Rocket, and Gamora arrived together shortly afterwards. Tony was the last one to show up, and he walked directly towards Emma first.

“Did you get everything taken care of?” he murmured quietly, glancing down at her computer screen to review the information.

“It’s done,” she replied, her pitch matching his own. “The civilians who hadn’t had a chance to clear the facility were taken somewhere for safekeeping, and we collected the upper-level management and scientists working out of the facility. They’re being interviewed now to see what, if anything, they were working on that might have made them a target for Hammer. Did you get ahold of him?” she asked, obviously at the end of her new information.

“Yeah, I got ahold of someone who was able to reach him,” he assured her, dropping down into the seat at the head of the table. “He’s going to be able to patch into a call with us on a secure line.”

“Great. I guess that means we’re ready to go,” she stated, turning to the rest of the group. “Looks like everyone’s here, so let’s get started. This shouldn’t take too long. First of all, Bucky, are you doing okay?”

All attention moved to the former Winter Soldier turned Captain America. He stiffened under the attention, and a hint of anger filled his expression. “I’m fine,” he responded tersely. “I’ll be fine.” The fingers of his right hand tightened around Verun’s and the raven-haired telepath closed her eyes. After a second, both of them relaxed into their chairs.

“What was it he said to you, Barnes?” Loki asked, a scowl etched on his expression. “I understand it had something to do with Zoe?”

“He asked me where she was,” he replied with a frown. “He said he wanted to make her a goddess.”

“Uh.” The musician blinked in surprise. “That’s bizarre. Who was he?”

“HYDRA,” Natasha stated in a matter-of-fact tone, and proceeded to give a brief physical description of the man. “Oh, and wings. Fully flight-capable. Sound familiar at all?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Everyone I saw looked like a normal human. Maybe it was someone else they experimented on?”

“Likely, but willingly so, if I had to guess,” Emma replied. “After all, he had the genetically-modified creatures there as well. That’s HYDRA research.”

Tony stood up then, grabbing a remote control and using it to turn on the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall at the other end of the table. “Which begs the big question in all of this,” the billionaire interjected. “What the hell is Justin Hammer doing with HYDRA research? JARVIS, have you got that secure line established?”

“I have, Sir,” the AI replied smoothly. “Patching in Colonel Rhodes now.”

The screen opposite Tony flickered to life, and Rhodey’s face appeared on it. “This better be important, Stark. Do you know how hard it is to get ahold of a burner phone with this short of notice in D.C. right now?”

“Not in the slightest,” the billionaire replied glibly. “You know, since I can’t step foot in DC without a SWAT team converging on me.”

“Must be nice to have an excuse,” the War Machine shot back. “So what’s up, Tony?”

“Well, we’ve got something you’re going to want to see,” he commented, leaning down and messing with the laptop briefly. Patched together video footage from several different angles appeared in place of the Colonel’s face, and they watched as the joint fighting force engaged in combat; first with Hammer’s Iron Suit pilots, and then with the genetically modified creatures.

“Wait.” Zoe leaned forward in her seat as the HYDRA soldier appeared on the screen. “I _do_ know him. He was a guard, the first couple months or so I was there. I remember ‘cause he used to being me dessert, and an extra blanket when I first got there. But after those first few weeks, he just disappeared and I never saw him again. He didn’t have _wings_ then.” She sounded almost jealous.

“I don't suppose you have any more information than that, Ms. Satelle?” Rhodey’s face reappeared on the screen with a concerned frown.

“We were hoping you would,” Clint interjected. “Guess that's a no?”

“Unfortunately,” Rhodey replied, “but I'll start looking into it immediately. Hammer working with HYDRA is a major problem, we need to know everything we can.”

“He wasn't in the research notes we downloaded from the HYDRA base,” Phil commented.

“I'll start looking through the personnel files to see if I can get any info on him from that,” Emma replied, her attention immediately turning to her laptop again.

Tony nodded at her in acknowledgement, but turned immediately back to the video screen. “Well, that's all we needed then, James. Maybe you can run it up the food chain a little? The sooner the U.S. Government realizes what a traitorous little prick they're working with, the sooner we can hopefully get this Emma thing resolved and we can stop hiding out. It’s tied our hands a bit.”

“I'm sure. I'll see what I can do, Tony. No promises, though. Being your friend has it’s disadvantages on the Hill right now,” he commented wryly.

“So what else is new? Catch you later, man.” The video feed flickered off, and Stark turned back to the table. “That’s all I had. Anyone else?”

“Let’s talk about his interest in Zoe.” Loki’s statement was unsurprising but his control at the moment was.

“Yes, let’s.” Thor had been leaning back in his chair, but with those words he straightened up and fixed his gaze on the white-haired telepath, and the mother of his future niece or nephew. “I am concerned about his interest in you, Zoe. You say he was kind to you in your captivity, now he desires to make you a goddess. Did you witness his interactions with other prisoners to see if he was kind to them as well? Was there any interaction between you both that might have been misinterpreted, especially to an ill or broken mind?”

“I wouldn’t have really called them ‘interactions’. At first, I was scared and cried a lot, then I got pissed and yelled a lot, then I just stopped talking at all. He was there through pretty much all of that. He was...nicer than the others, but I don’t do Stockholm. He was still one of the assholes that kidnapped me and was keeping me prisoner.” Her lips pursed in angry lines as she remembered those first few weeks in captivity. She shook her head, “And I never saw any other prisoners then. They didn’t have the staff, or at least they weren’t using it on me, at first; I only ever saw other prisoners when they were brought in. . .” she trailed off and shivered, her mind skirting the edges of the blocks Verun had put in place after her mental break. “He was gone by then,” she finished quietly.

“Here we go.” Emma motioned for Tony to turn the flatscreen back on, and when he did there were HYDRA data files displayed up on the screen. “We didn’t see it before because it was stored in the personnel files instead of research. Which seems… sloppy, actually. He _was_ a test subject, but he was a HYDRA agent first. Lieutenant Stefan Gerig, with HYDRA for a little over four years now. Stationed at the Tibet base about six months before your arrival, he hadn’t been promoted yet, exemplary service record, etc, etc.” Her eyes skimmed down over Gerig’s service history briefly as she made a mental note to come back to it later, until she finally reached something of note.

“Hold the phone,” she commented as she sat up a bit in her chair with a confused scowl. “Here we go. It looks like this Stefan guy started showing signs of special abilities, so he brought it to upper command’s attention and _volunteered_ for observation and experimentation. His powers developed from there.” She looked up, her eyes flickering around at the others in the room. “This wasn’t done to him with the staff… at least not at first. It just happened, and that makes two that we’ve heard about now. Does that seem strange to anyone besides me?”

Zoe raised her hand. “As one of the two, _yeah_. What the hell is going on? Am I contagious or something? Did he contract telekinesis from handing me a blanket?”

“No, it’s something else.” Tony spread his hands when everyone looked at him. “Hey, I may be an engineer, but I can follow logical steps to a conclusion.”

“But what is it?” Thor asked.

“I’m an engineer, Jim, not a doctor.” His joke flew past most in the room but he got a couple of chuckles. “Let’s consult with Dr. Cho. And if we see this guy again, we might want to get some of his DNA.”

“Can you get that from blood?” Loki held up his dagger. “I stabbed this man in the back, to no effect.”

“Wow, your backstabbing skills really aren’t up to par, are they?” Tony asked with a glint in his eye.

For the first time, Loki felt like the bearded man was teasing rather than provoking. _I must be getting used to him._ “In my own defense, I was under another’s control for the first failed attempt, and this time -- well, he’s clearly beyond human norms. I can’t say that I’m to blame.” Phil opened his mouth, then shut it, unwilling to be the provocateur in this case.

“Yes, Dr. Cho is going to want that,” Natasha told him, her green eyes darting between the men.

“Then she shall have it.” Loki set the blade on the table.

“She’s also going to need an account of all the animals and people you stabbed with it.” Clint leaned a little closer. “And since you cleaned it, let’s hope Gerig’s blood is there at all.”

“There is always some blood trapped between the tang and handle,” Loki said, gathering the blade back up and standing as the meeting began to break up. “I will help her to extract it all.”

“Great. Once you wrap up filming on the latest CSI episode though, I’d like to go over a couple things on the Maria with you,” Tony quipped. “Everyone else, party’s over for now. Emma, do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” she replied, shutting down her laptop as people filtered out of the room. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to do dinner tonight?” he asked in a casual tone, but the intense stare in his eyes belied his calm.

She blinked for a moment in confusion, then her eyes widened. She began tripping over her words in panic at the idea of going out with the man she’d just spent the last several weeks trying to get over. “Tony, I’m not sure, I mean, right now I’m not, that is--”

“What, do I have something in my teeth?” he asked quickly. “Is that your hold up?”

As usual, Tony’s often-irreverent sense of humor cut through the stronger emotion and brought her back down to reality, drawing a short laugh out of her. It faded away quickly though, and her smile was polite but strained as she replied. “Hardly. I’m just… not dating right now. Anyone. There’s just so much going on, you know, with the Maria Beta and everything else.”

“Date? Who said anything about a _date_?” he asked quickly. “I was thinking pizza… movie… a guy’s night. What, were you thinking candlelight and steaks?”

“Oh,” she replied simply. After a moment he saw the tension dissipate from her body, at least somewhat. “Okay. That, um… that sounds nice. Sure, why not?”

Tony nodded. “Alright, then. I’ll see you around eight?”

“Eight. Right. Sounds perfect.” She smiled at him, a little more genuinely this time, and picked up her laptop before heading to the door. “See you then.”

Alone in the room, Tony sighed and JARVIS asked from his phone, “What would you like me to do with the steaks, Sir?”

“Give ‘em to Cruella and Lefty,” the engineer sighed dramatically. “Someone should enjoy them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	76. Together

Bucky didn’t speak his mind during the meeting, but Verun knew what was on it. His death-grip on her fingers opened his thoughts to her. The fact that he knew that was a measure of the trust they’d developed.

When the meeting closed, the couple rose together and quickly left the room. Verun heard Clint ask, “What happened out there?” She hoped that Bucky hadn’t; if his ears had been sharp enough to hear, he didn’t react. He led her to his room, a somewhat uncomfortable place since they’d never been there alone. He even shut the door, privacy for once trumping propriety.

“I can’t be trusted.” His agonized eyes locked with hers, the pain he’d been burying finally revealed.

“What happened wasn’t your fault,” she said firmly, wishing she had the man of HYDRA in front of her. She would love to tear his heart out of his chest.

“I know.” He took both of her hands, images flashing through his mind like bounding stags in the fog. “That doesn’t mean that I can be trusted. They set up mental triggers. Until I know they’re gone, I can’t be trusted on a field of battle.” He brushed his hand over the star on his chest. “I can’t be trusted with Steve’s legacy.”

“I will find as many of them as I can.” Verun swallowed. “But more than that, I can link with you. A deeper connection than we’ve used before. A permanent one. I can shore you up should this Gerig try to take you again.”

She felt his desire to accept it, as well as a fleeting image of an emerald ring. “What would that mean for you?” he asked quietly.

“It means that if he tries to use these mental triggers, you would have my mental defenses.” She smiled a little. “They are more than enough to prevent a conditioned response from taking control.”

Bucky shook his head. “I asked what would happen to _you_ , sweetheart.”

“I would have some difficulty with my powers. The link would be a constant draw and demand for my attention.” Verun smiled in the dim light of the room. “In battle, it would be best to be paired with you, so I don’t have to attempt to connect with a third mind. It wouldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t cause pain.” She paused. “It would mean that we know everything about one another.”

“Everything?” His blue eyes locked with her green. “You’d have all my secrets?”

“Yes, from the deeply embarrassing ones that you never told anyone to the ones I only catch glimpses of.” She didn’t want to know more about those ice-coated memories of darkness and violation, but she would soon. The link was the only answer that preserved the man she loved. “Does that bother you?” she asked, brushing her thumb over a stubble-covered cheek.

“A little, yeah.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t think I have a choice, though.”

“You’ll know all of mine, too,” she reminded him. “There won’t be a single thing hidden.”

“Wow.” He took a deep breath then dropped to one knee. His hand came out of his pocket, holding the emerald ring she’d been seeing in his thoughts for a few days. “Then before we do, promise me you’ll marry me. Before you see all the ugliness in my soul, say you’ll be my wife.”

“Are you afraid I’ll run?” she asked with a little smile. “James Buchanan Barnes, I will never run from you, so long as you live.”

“Is that a yes?” he asked nervously.

Verun laughed. “Yes.”

“Way to scare a man,” he laughed as he slipped the ring on her finger. “Next time, just say yes.”

“There won’t be a next time,” she told him.

“No, not with me.” He rose and kissed her. “But do the next guy a favor: just say yes.”

She couldn’t argue with him. They both knew the realities of their life spans. She would bury him long before she would die, and likely, somewhere in the millennia that followed him, she would love another. She kissed him again. “Next time, I’ll be clearer. For you.”

“Can we do the link tonight? Now?” he asked her softly. “I know it’s not the most romantic thing.”

“Your proposal was born of necessity,” she replied. “I do not need romance.”

Bucky snorted. “I never thought I’d hear that from my lady.” He picked up her hand and stared at the ring, bright against her fair skin. “Regardless of what happens now, thank you.”

“I love you.” She kissed him with a passion they only rarely allowed themselves. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “What do I do?”

“Come and lay on the bed with me.” The implication under her words brought blood to her face but she held his eyes.

They moved uncertainly together to lay down, their motions awkward and nervous. He paused as she stretched out first, wondering how the hell he’d gotten this lucky. Beautiful, smart, and strong enough for both of them. She turned onto her side and he mirrored her. Inching forward until their foreheads were touching, she whispered, “Just relax and follow me anytime you see me.”

He grinned. “I think that rock confirms I will.” He caught her hand, touching their engagement ring, loving the tactile confirmation of her acceptance.

“I mean in your head.” Verun squeezed his hand. “Shut your eyes.”

Bucky did --

_He was only six. The noise and chaos of an early summer evening in Brooklyn spread out before him. A detached part of him knew that this was a memory, but that was a distant part. He was just another poor kid in a shady part of the borough._

_He’d been alone last time, but this time, the green-eyed girl at his side took his hand. He could remember her always being there now, his quiet, beautiful shadow._

_A sound from an alley caught his attention. It was Oscar’s gang - a group of punks that liked to terrorize smaller kids and animals. They’d beat up his cousin last month, and Bucky ducked into the alley, Verun with him._

_Their victim was another boy, small and weak. He was cornered and trapped, but didn’t hesitate to launch himself at them, fighting with a fury that his body couldn’t support. Bucky admired that kind of fire, and he and Verun attacked._

_There were five in Oscar’s gang, but Bucky was big and strong for his age, and the other kid didn’t stop fighting. Verun helped, mirroring Buck’s movements. It didn’t take long for the gang to break and run._

_Bucky helped him up and the kid wheezed, “Thanks, I guess. I’m Steve Rogers.”_

He was aware that he was lying on a bed in an underground base, holding his fiance’s hand. He still felt the tears at the bittersweet memory of his friend. He didn’t have long to weep--

_She was only sixty. Verun’s hands were shaking, but she knew she could do this. The grendelkin was just ahead, in the trees. She knew that she should go back and get help, but Birgir didn’t have much time. The sun would be up soon, and the grendelkin would want to eat before it had to hide from the light._

_Bucky was just as scared, his fingers wrapped around the spear so tightly they hurt. Verun traded a look with him, and they both took courage from the knowledge that they were all the hope Birgir had._

_It was in the thicket; they could hear the Vanir boy’s whimpering cries. Together, they crept forward, as silent as rabbits. The scaly back of the monster came into view. Vanir didn’t host the monstrosities like some of the other realms but for two inexperienced sixty-year olds, the grendelkin was a horror._

_Verun drew a breath, and then charged, her spear held out. It pierced the creature low in the back, Bucky’s spear twinning her own, so close they seemed as one. When the grendelkin spun, they grabbed their spear and were carried in a circle behind the monster. It kept them out of its reach, but left both of them battered._

_The grendelkin was so intent on its attackers that it failed to notice the rising sun. When it spun into a ray of light, its skin ignited. Verun and Bucky let go, collapsing into the meadow, feeling their right ankles twist and then snap. Painfully, they stood and checked the monster; it was dead. Pulling their spears loose, they used it as a crutch to limp over to Birgir. To their horror, it was too late for the boy._

_Weeping, they limped back home together._

She was with him, and him with her, through all their years. She was there when he was accepted into the army, and when he had to tell Steve. He was there for her long hours of magic lessons and the moment when she learned she was adopted from reading her foster mother’s mind. His flaws were open to her: his coddling and arrogance toward Steve; his hurt when he had to share him with the entire world. Her anger with her brother was laid bare; her unforgiven pain that he’d taken their father away before she could know him. He was with her when she learned that Loki had sacrificed their father to win Odin’s approval, and she with him when HYDRA tortured him in the camp.

She fell screaming with him, reaching for Steve and watching him dwindle into the distance.

He fought ice monsters with her while she sought to connect with her people on Jotunheim.

Her arm was replaced when his was, and she was brainwashed on the table next to him.

He was with her the night that she fell through the ice and nearly died.

They froze together, both in another realm and in cryostasis.

She was there when he found Steve again, and he was with her when she confronted her mother.

When they met, she saw herself through his eyes: wild and beautiful and amazing.

He saw the strength she saw in him, his ability to bear the burdens life had put on him without breaking. He knew how much she liked the blue of his eyes, something she’d never told him.

The time crashed into the present, and Bucky found himself on his bed, weeping, his forehead still touching hers. She pulled back, but it was like she was still there, still touching him, only the connection wasn’t physical. It was so deep inside him that he wasn’t sure how people could tolerate being alone. He’d expected it to be invasive but had been prepared to endure that for the stability. Instead, there was a part of him that wasn’t him, but nestled in his soul.

 _Why did God not make us this way in the first place?_ he wondered, half-heartbroken that this might end someday.

 _Because God didn’t make us to be anything_ , she thought, pushing up on her elbow, looking startled. _I can hear your thoughts._

He reached up to cup her cheek, still amazed by the changes today had brought. _Is that a problem?_

 _It doesn’t always happen, particularly when dealing with mortals,_ she answered, leaning down to kiss him.

His thoughts turned a little disrespectful, as they had been every time she kissed him. This time, he knew that she had similar thoughts about touching him, and all other notions faded from his mind. _Do you-- I don’t-- is it--?_

 _We’re engaged._ Her mental voice was almost shy, and they both knew that Vanir society allowed engaged couples to be more permissive.

Bucky kissed her, his heart racing and hands shaking. She wouldn’t be the first woman he’d been with, but she was the first one he loved. _Let’s save something for the wedding night_ , he told her, amazed at how natural this felt with her.

She grinned, sly and shy at the same time and sat up on him, pulling her dress over her head. “Dear God,” he breathed as he saw how thin the shift underneath was; he could see every curve and mark on her body. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist, his mouth claiming a nipple through the cloth.

Verun gasped, surprised at how much she enjoyed his lips drawing on her breast. Bucky nearly lost what he was doing when her pleasure washed through him. “Jesus,” he gasped, blue eyes wide. _I may not survive this._

“Neither of us might survive,” she murmured, kissing him and pulling at his armor. _How does this come off?_

He nudged her off the bed, his eyes going to the shadowed V between her legs. He was barely aware of what he was doing in his haste, and for the first time, Steve’s treasured uniform hit the floor and stayed there. Bucky thought about it for a second, but couldn’t tear himself away long enough to pick it up.

 _He’d understand_ , Verun told him with a smile as he stripped his pants off. _He’d be happy._

 _He was always happy when I got my head out of my ass,_ Bucky agreed. He hesitated then asked, _Boxers stay or go?_

 _Go. I want to take you in my mouth_ , she replied and his boxers went away so fast he thought he might have torn them. It didn’t matter anymore as he pulled her into his arms. He felt her carnal desire, tangled with love, for him. His cock throbbed with eagerness at her pleasure as she studied his naked body.

They tumbled backwards onto the bed, her on top. She started to wiggle down his body and he stopped her. _Turn so that I can do the same for you,_ he suggested.

Verun smiled and pulled the shift over her head, and he swallowed at the sight of her completely revealed. He felt her arousal deepen as he memorized her body.

It was awkward. She knew what she was doing, sort of, thanks to being a curious teenager-equivalent with the ability to read minds, but that didn’t confer the skills on her. He caught her knee as it came too close to his nose while she struggled to get her pussy over his face without sitting on him. He grinned at her polite attempt, even as he caught her hips and pulled her to his face. _Just go for it,_ he told her.

 _As you say_ , she thought impishly, and deep throated his cock for a second. He barely kept his hips still, instead of driving up into her face. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, because her mouth was heavenly. He let her know, even as he licked her slit and felt the surge of ecstasy from her.

Their link made eating her out so easy. He didn’t have to guess what she liked; he just knew as soon as he did it. When she shuddered and cried out, her pleasure washing over them both, he lost control, coming with her. “Sorry,” he gasped when he could think again. _I meant to warn you._

 _I knew it was coming,_ she told him, turning around so that they could hold one another. _I love you._

He pulled her close. _I love you, too. Until the end of the line._

Steve wouldn’t have minded sharing that, either.


	77. Just Friends

Emma headed for the door to her bedroom, then turned back and glanced at herself for the thirty-second time in the full-length mirror. She smoothed out her dress, then with a sigh she grabbed the eyeliner sitting on her dresser. _This is ridiculous,_ she thought as she made a small adjustment to the thickness of the dark brown line that accented her amber gaze, blending it a little better into her eyeshadow. _Why are you even wearing makeup? This isn’t a date. You’re hanging out with a friend, eating pizza, and watching a movie._

She sat the eyeliner down and ran a hand through her hair, adjusting the way the loose waves hung down and framed her face. _Because it’s ‘not a date’ with someone you’ve not only screwed, but with a friend and team member you would happily keep screwing, that’s why. Also, you might be in love with him, but he isn’t the slightest bit interested in you. Get over it._ She drew in a deep breath to steel herself and headed out the door towards Tony’s suite. She reached the door and knocked before she had a chance to change her mind about it.

The smell of hamburger, pepperoni, and cheese floated out as Tony opened the door. “Em. Hi! I didn’t know you were coming by.” The little curve of his smile told her he was in a playful mood. “Come have pizza. I think I may have made your favorite.”

She laughed softly and walked in, sniffing appreciatively. Few people knew that Tony could cook, mostly because he rarely had the time to do so. Emma had been exposed to quite a few demonstrations of his culinary skills during the months they had spent sequestered together trying to figure out how to deal with the nanites, and she no longer doubted his ability. “That would be quite the coincidence, since most people don’t just randomly sprinkle herbs and cheese all over the crust of their hamburger pizzas. Unless my good taste just happened to rub off on you, finally?”

“I have no good taste,” he told her solemnly. “It’s been proven. By science.” He waved her toward the couch, where two pizzas sat on the coffee table and the latest giant robot movie was loaded on his large TV. “Sorry we’re not in my personal home theatre but we’re roughing it here. Only a fifty inch screen, I’m afraid.”

“I guess it'll do,” she responded glibly, sinking down into the couch. “Anyways, I don't think obscenely rich people are supposed to have taste. They hire people for that. I think it's written down in the rules somewhere.”

“Yes, the Big Rulebook of Being Rich.” Tony made a show of glancing around the room, even as he started the movie. “I seem to have left my copy somewhere else. If you need a quote from it, you can ask JARVIS, though.” He took a bite and flashed her a smile, a string of cheese at the corner of his mouth. “On second thought, I don’t think you get to read it. Net worth, and all that.”

She laughed softly and grinned back at him. “Well, that depends on the cutoff, I suppose. After all, I took your advice and hired your investment broker, remember? Now hold still for a minute.” She reached up, and brushed the bit of cheese from the corner of his lips. “There.”

He froze, then caught her hand, turning it so that he saw the food she’d removed. “I guess you could say I was being a bit cheesy,” he said, but his voice wasn’t filled with his usual dry banter. The look in his eyes was molten -- and a little unsure.

Emma felt her breath catch and her cheeks flush, her body reacting to his touch and the intensity of his gaze. “Tony…” She’d meant it to sound cautionary, but instead it came out as a breathless whisper, tinged with desire.

“That is my name, at least the only one I answer to in a casual setting like this,” he said quickly, not letting her hand go. “I mean, I _guess_ you could call me _Iron Man_ , but I think that’s unnecessary. Needlessly formal, among friends.” The movie played on, ignored by both.

“Well, there’s always ‘Stark’. Or ‘boss’. Or maybe ‘Anthony’,” she replied playfully, though her voice dropped to a lower pitch at the very end. None of the many women he’d been with, not even Pepper, had ever called him by his full name.

“All too formal,” he told her with mock severity. “But only my mom called me Anthony, so maybe you could resist doing that? I mean, with the whole mom-association. It makes me feel like you’re about to lecture me for tracking mud across the floor. I mean, my mom never actually did that, the maid did, but the point remains. I don’t want to think of you as my maid mom. There are better ways to think of you. More pizza?” He offered with one hand, cramming a piece into his mouth with the other to shut himself up.

“Yeah,” she replied, pulling her hand back now that he had finally released it. She flexed it slightly, wondering how long it would take for the tingling sensation to go away, then picked up what was actually her first piece of pizza. She took a small, nervous bite even though her appetite had completely dissipated. “Maybe a beer?” she suggested after a moment.

“Beer! Yes.” He rose quickly and went to the bar. “Actually, wouldn’t you like something better than beer? I have my usual.” By which, Emma knew, he meant he didn’t have beer in the room.

“Um, sure. Maybe some wine?” She nibbled again at the pizza and tried to focus on the movie. “I can’t tell what’s going on here, did I miss an installment of these sometime in the last year or so?”

“It’s a Bay movie.” Tony’s voice carried over the bar hollowly as he bent down behind it, checking his wine fridge. “Just watch the pretty explosions.”

“Good point,” she replied, hoping he’d hurry up and just pick something. _Yeah, cause you go really well together with Tony and alcohol,_ she chastised herself inwardly. _Better stick to a one-drink maximum._

He came back up from behind the bar with a red that was older than both of them. He opened it for her nervously, then brought her a wide-mouthed wine glass and a tumbler of whiskey for himself. When he sat back down, they were suddenly aware of how close the other one was. Tony snuck a look at her, and found her sneaking one at him. “Oh, fuck it,” he said, tired of the games. Leaning over, he pulled her into a kiss.

She whispered his name in feeble protest, but then his lips were on hers and she was a goner. She kissed him back, managing to set her wine glass down on the sofa table before she forgot she was holding it. She then reached up and buried her fingers in his hair, brushing her thumb across the side of his neck, touching him in a way she had spent months dreaming about doing again.

Her lips tasted of wine, not whiskey, but they were starting to bring back memories of that forgotten night. He tugged her into his lap without really breaking the kiss, his fingers going to the zipper in the back. He buried his face in her neck, nipping lightly at her skin.

She moaned softly in response and her head tilted back and to the side, inviting him to continue. He felt her fingertips skim down the front of his chest, and after a moment she began to slowly unbutton his shirt.

Tony kissed his way across her cleavage, pulling the straps of her dress down. He followed the line of her neck up to her ear, nibbling on the lobe. It was going _so_ well, and Tony softly groaned. “Emma,” he whispered, her dress falling away as he cupped her breasts, his fingers grazing over the lace of her bra.

“Oh god, Tony.” she murmured in response, her body pressing closer to him. He could feel her nipples tighten under his fingertips through the lace of the bra, and she began to trail kisses gently across his cheek and jaw. _I want this,_ she found herself thinking. _I’ve been wanting this. I’m never going to stop wanting this, even if we are just friends._

“Tony,” she whispered again, but there was something different in her voice this time. _Just friends,_ her mind repeated at her. ‘ _Needlessly formal, among friends…’, ‘We were colleagues, and friends_..’, ‘ _I wouldn’t have said yes if I hadn’t been drunk..’_. Tony’s words echoed in her head, slowly pulling her out of the fog of desire that he had awakened within her. “Oh, no,” she exclaimed, softly at first.

“Wait, what?” Tony asked dazedly, his hands freezing. “What’s wrong? Do I need to brush my teeth?”

“No, I mean, just no. I can’t do this.” She pulled back, scrambling off of his lap and the sofa before he had a chance to protest. “I can’t, I just can’t. Not again.” She pulled the straps of her dress up hurriedly, not bothering to zip it up as she gathered her shoes. “I’m sorry, Tony. I have to go. I just can’t. I’m sorry,” she murmured, pulling on every ounce of her self-control to not freak out, or throw herself back into his arms as she hurried out of the door.

Tony sat in silence for a moment, his jaw hanging open. “What the hell just happened? JARVIS?”

“I believe that Ms. Thompson declined to re-engage in sexual activities with you, Sir.”

“Oh, you’re really fucking helpful,” Tony snarled, throwing a pillow at the ceiling. “A real buddy.”

~ * ~ * ~

Emma didn’t quite remember how she’d gotten to Zoe’s door. The last thing she remembered was the dawning realization that she was in the process of throwing herself, libido-first, down the rabbit-hole of heartache. She did have enough awareness to momentarily stop pounding on the door, and managed to reach behind herself and zip up her dress just before it opened. “Can I come in?” she pleaded with the white-haired telepath when she opened the door. “Please tell me I can come in.”

“Of course you can,” Zoe responded with a concerned frown, still tying the belt to her bathrobe. “Emma, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“No, I am not okay. I am _so far_ from okay! Oh my god,” she moaned as she hurried inside, leaving Zoe to close the door behind her. “What was I thinking? He said it wasn’t a date, I told him I wasn’t up for a date! It was _not_ supposed to be a date. Look at me, Zoe! Of course it was a fucking date. I’m dressed for a date. I wore makeup for a date. These are fuck-me heels! He made my favorite pizza, for fuck’s sake. What the hell was I thinking?! Oh god, I need a drink.”

Zoe bit back a smile as Emma splayed herself out on the couch. “I don’t have any alcohol, but I can make you a hot chocolate if you’d like.

“You're no help,” she bemoaned. “You know, being pregnant is _no_ excuse. You should always be prepared for these things. It's just civilized,” the other woman continued, sounding so much like Tony for a moment that it was hard for Zoe not to laugh.

“Hey, not all of us can have their _private stock_ moved into Sanctuary, and it’s not like there’s a liquor store just around the corner,” Zoe teased while making up two hot chocolates. “And if you think I’m getting within a thousand yards of that stuff Jane and the Brain Trust cook up in their labs. . .well, the fumes’ll knock me out at twenty, tops.”

“That's just the think tank’s way of blowing off steam. And if you think there’s not any black market booze trade happening in Sanctuary, well, you're not looking hard enough. It may not be on the official supply list, but it's not illegal either. Are you kidding? Tony founded this place, there's alcohol to be had.” She stood up and began to pace, obviously still riled up.  

“I had a plan, Zoe. You helped me come up with the plan, remember? I was supposed to cry, get mad, and then get over it. Work on me, right? I did that! I worked on me!” she exclaimed, pointing emphatically towards herself. “I threw myself into work. Training. I hung out with other people. I even stopped avoiding him and tried to be friends again! Why is he fucking with my plan?!”

“Well, it seems like it’s because he’d like to be more than just friends,” Zoe answered mildly as she handed a steaming hot cup over to the distraught astronaut. She sat down on the loveseat next to the couch Emma had been reclining on. “So, you’ve worked on you? Then you know what you want now? Because ‘fuck-me heels’ doesn’t sound like you really just want to be friends.”

“Of course I don’t. I’ve never wanted to just be friends. But I was working on it! I knew that was my only option, and I was working on it, damn it.” She took a sip of the chocolate while standing, then sunk back down onto the couch.

Zoe arched a brow at her as she drank from her mug. “It’s not your only option. You _could_ try dating him.”

“Are you crazy?” she replied indignantly. “I can’t _date_ Tony Stark. I’m in _love_ with Tony Stark!”

“There seems to be a lot of that going around.” Loki appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, still half-asleep. “At least Bucky has finally made his move - what is wrong with you and Tony now?”

She turned to him, studying him for a moment. “You. You are,” she responded, comprehension slowly dawning across her features. “You did this.”

Loki blinked, and Zoe saw the sardonic shields slam into place for the first time in a long time. “Did I?” he asked with bitter irritation. “Because I was very sure I was asleep.”

“No, I remember now.” She stood up, setting down the chocolate. “I wasn’t the only one with a plan. Tony had a plan. I understood my place in it. We were friends. We were only ever _going_ to be friends. He’d lost the love of his life. He’d buried his two best friends. He wasn’t ever going to risk that again. It was made perfectly _clear_ to me that we would _never_ be more than friends! Then you said something to him. _You_ told him that he was in love with me. That’s when this started...”

From the side, Zoe’s eyes widened and she gave Loki a looked that begged him to be patient with Emma. Or at least polite. She’d take polite. Polite would be great. _This isn’t about you, love,_ Zoe told him telepathically. _If you put up with it, there’ll be some special nookie in it for you._

He sighed and ran a hand over his face, but when it came away his expression was something closer to neutral, and he proceeded to listen silently.

“...that’s when he started acting different,” Emma continued, completely missing the non-verbal exchange between the two. Whatever measure of calm she’d managed to acquire was slipping through her fingers already, and she stood up and started to pace again. “Don’t you _get_ it? I can’t go through this again! I’ve spent weeks telling myself not to be in love with Tony Stark! I’ve spent months, trying to _get over_ Tony Stark!”

She stopped, turned, and strode towards him suddenly. “We had a plan, Loki! Because of you, _he changed the plan_!”

The jotun looked past her to Zoe, the desire to end this in his eyes. _It’s not you_ , Zoe reminded him. _It’s just word vomit._

Loki rolled his eyes at his paramour’s choice of words, but Emma wasn’t privy to that information. All she saw was a man being utterly dismissive of her feelings.

Without a word of warning she swung at him, all her fear and panic and frustration boiling over into the punch as her fist connected solidly against his jaw. Instead of the minor tickle he should have felt from a human, however - even an enhanced one like Emma - he was actually knocked backwards from the impact.

Pain blossomed in his cheek and radiated through his face and neck, even as the nanite-infused Avenger gasped in horror at her actions and stumbled back a step.  In the stunned silence that followed, she covered her mouth with the offending hand. “Oh god, Loki,” she murmured quietly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.  I shouldn’t be here. I should go.”

“Yes,” he spat, “I think you should.” He resisted the urge to cradle his face. “Now.”

She nodded, and without another word she fled the room. Once she was gone, he said, “Ow. That fucking hurt.” Aggravated green eyes turned to Zoe again. “The nookie had better be amazing, because I just went above and beyond.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions this week: (repeated from Sloppy; I'll keep repeating these questions until I get some answers! :p)
> 
> 1) Who's your favorite Age of Miracles character so far and why?
> 
> 2) What's been your favorite plot or scene in the fiction so far? Why? What would you like to see more or less of in the story?  
>    
> Now for links!  
> For some sci-fi fun brought to you by both Malachite and Deprough, check out serial web novel, [Thirteen](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/about/)! We're over twenty chapters in, it updates twice a week on Mondays and Fridays, and is free to read!
> 
> For more romance, check out Deprough's Accords short stories on Amazon: There's [Deep Blue](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017IZS18W?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_2&sr=8-2) and [The Yule Miracle](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017OM7RZW?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1) so far!
> 
> For some vampire sci-fi fun check out Deprough's [City of Promise](http://smile.amazon.com/City-Promise-Dawn-Prough-ebook/dp/B008X7JEAE/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1450101256&sr=1-3), also on Amazon!
> 
> If you like what you see on Amazon, on [Fifth Column Publishing](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/), and here on Archive of Our Own, please consider contributing to our [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=568042&ty=h) so we can continue to write for you! Thanks!


	78. Long Overdue

He’d expected to feel a lot of things, but afraid wasn’t one of them. He’d been in battle the day before and _this_ was making him more nervous. “Do I look okay?” Peter asked again, knowing that he was being a pest but unable to stop his big mouth.

With an exaggerated sigh, Darcy turned to him and fussed with the collared shirt she’d found for him. “Peter, stop it. You could be wearing a burlap sack and he’s not going to care.”

“What if he’s disappointed in me?” he asked, daring to voice his fear. “What if he hates me for not coming back, even when I could have?”

“Then you deal with it.” She looked him in the eyes. “You held a power stone alone for seconds, man, you survived something that normally requires you to have ‘Titan’ listed on your OK Cupid profile. If he’s pissed, he’s pissed. But everything I found online shows that he loves you, desperately, Peter. He’s going to want you back in his life, even if he’s mad.”

He squared his shoulders and walked along the sidewalk next to Darcy, looking at the neat brick houses. This would have been easier if it had been at the old house, but Grandpa had moved out a couple of weeks ago. He’d never thought his grandfather would end up in an assisted living place, but here they were. Checking each house number, he walked up to a door and readied himself to knock. Before he could, he heard a familiar voice shout, “Pete!”

He spun, his heart pounding, as he scanned the men playing horseshoes in a little courtyard. None of them were familiar, until Darcy caught his arm and pointed. It was only then that he saw the hard jawline of one of the men that he knew who it was.

His grandfather hadn’t noticed him, either, which made it awkward. He was yelling at one of the passing walkers, taunting him playfully about refusing to play. After a moment of watching -- and realizing he was being a little creepy about it -- Darcy took him by the elbow and gently pulled him over to the courtyard.

The men all glanced up as Peter and Darcy joined them but only Michael Quill reacted to them. He clutched the horseshoe in his hand more tightly and stormed over, his scowl taking Peter right back to the time he’d broken the lawnmower. “Where is he, you sonovabitch?” Michael snarled, holding the horseshoe like a weapon. “Where’s Peter?”

“Gramps, it’s me,” Star-Lord said. “It’s Peter.”

Grandpa stared at him for a long moment. Then the horseshoe hit the ground as the older Quill shuffled forward. “Pete?” he asked unsure, glancing and then dismissing Darcy. “What-- How?”

“I came home.” He caught his grandfather’s arms, then pulled him into a hug, fighting tears at the feeling of frailty coming from him. It didn’t match his memories and Peter realized he’d almost been gone _too_ long to have any kind of reunion at all.

“Peter.” Michael studied him and then shook his head. “Boy, you look so much like your father, I thought you were him.”

Darcy shifted, her presence reminding him of the reason for their visit. “Can we go inside and talk?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, yeah! Of course. C’mon, and you, too, pretty lady.” Michael paused only long enough to tell his horseshoe opponents he was done before leading them into the house. It was small and impersonal, and didn’t feel like his Grandfather’s home. There were still packed boxes all over the place, and Peter felt horrible that he hadn’t come to rescue his grandfather from this before. His grandfather puttered around the kitchen, asking, “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Quill,” Darcy said, crossing her legs and curving the folder of paperwork over her knee.

“I’m good, Gr-Gramps.” Peter sat stiffly in his own chair, hating this place. _No, I hate that my grandfather got old._

“Okay, suit yourselves.” He came back into the living with a mug of coffee; still black and strong enough that the smell had Peter’s eyes watering. His grandfather sat down and asked, “How did you get home?”

“A device called a Tesseract,” he said, then glanced at Darcy. “I wasn’t supposed to say that, was I?”

“Doesn’t matter. No one believes me,” Gramps said with a hint of bitterness. “Who are you, lady? His government handler?”

Darcy snort-laughed. “Ah, no. I do represent an entity, but we’re way more concerned with security of the individual than the security of the government.”

He frowned and asked, “Pete, what are you involved in?”

“We’re saving the world, possibly the universe, Gramps.” He sat a little straighter in his chair. “I can tell you more, but you can’t tell anyone else.”

“Who the hell believes me?” he asked again, querulously sipping coffee.

“You have come to SHIELD’s attention,” Darcy said gently, “which is how I found you for Peter. They believe you, and Justin Hammer would kidnap you in a heartbeat if he knew you were of value to Peter. I’d like to bring you into our organization where we can protect you.”

Michael Quill looked at her for a long moment then turned to Peter. “Is she for real?”

“You can ask me that,” Darcy said with an unmistakable edge to her voice. “I am for real, and so’s my offer. You don’t need to verify that with another penis.”

His eyebrows rose and Michael said, “I was verifying with my grandson, who happens to have a penis, but whom I trust far more than you.”

“It’s fine, Gramps,” Peter said hastily, trying not to feel mortified that his grandfather and the pretty girl he kinda-maybe had a crush on were growling the word ‘penis’ at each other.

“Point, but can you honestly say that--” Darcy stopped and shook her head. “Fine. Moving on. We can tackle sexism later.” As Peter’s grandfather snorted, she said, “I represent a group that is currently running a safe-haven for scientists and select other people. Peter and his companions are there, and we want you to join us.”

“Sure.” Michael replied immediately, then laughed at their surprise. “What, you think I have something so awesome and mind-blowing here that I have to think about it? I’d rather go with my grandson than spend my days here playing horseshoes with other old, forgotten geezers. Hell, maybe he’ll let me fly his spaceship.”

His smirk said he was joking, but Peter shook his head somberly. “It got stolen, Gramps. Someone took it when I had to leave it behind to keep a bad guy from getting an ancient artifact.”

Michael blinked. “You really have a spaceship?”

“Yep.” Peter grinned proudly. “The _Milano_.”

The older Quill shook his head. “That’s the name you came up with?”

“Hey, when you have your spaceship, you can call it what you want.” Peter scowled at him, then softened his expression. “Now, let’s get you packed and get out of here. I can’t wait to show you _everything_.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

“Mother- Ow!” Tony’s feet kicked out from underneath the hull of the _Maria Beta_. They were close to having her in the air, and everyone -- even the damned raccoon -- was pulling long shifts to see it done as quickly as possible. The fight with Hammer had put them a day behind and then Quill running off to rediscover his roots or whatever had put the team back _another_ day. _Just a few more weeks_ , Tony promised himself. _Then you can finally call yourself an astronaut._

He always did prefer to promote from within.

“Did the ship hit back?” Loki asked, crouching next to the billionaire’s flailing body.

“Shut up. This goddamned piece won’t-” He was cut off by a sharp clang. “HA! In your face!”

“Truly a battle of the ages,” the jotun sighed.

Tony slid the wrench out from under the lower curve of the ship. “Shut up part deux, and make yourself useful. Pull me out.”

“As you wish.” Loki seized him by the ankles and tugged him loose of the hulk. “What’s next?”

“Uh...“ Tony stared around the room, grabbing his tool cart and swinging it in a circle. “Dunno. My engineer sense is tingling over this way, though.”

“Someday you’ll have to teach me this ‘engineer sense’,” Loki said as he trailed after the mortal, more bemused than annoyed. “Will it require me to hand you more tools?”

“Probably.” Tony said as he stopped next to an open panel and stuck his head in. “Nope, this one’s not wired either. Fuck, what do we pay Quill for?”

“Nothing. We pay him nothing.” Loki knelt to peer inside, too. “May I suggest you’re getting exactly what you pay for?”

“No, you may not.” Tony held out a hand. “Fourteen millimeter, please.”

Loki dropped the wrench into his hand. “Surely there’s something better I could be doing.”

Tony’s snort echoed inside the ship. “What’s the matter, Bruce? Am I boring you?”

Both men froze. Time stretched, filled with shock. Suddenly, from within the hull of the Maria, Tony drew in a ragged, choked breath, and started to cry.

For the first time in a long time, the jotun was at a loss. While he debated what to do, Tony slid out of the machine, curling up on the ground. This wasn’t just tears; it was ragged, painful sobs of pure grief.

Silently, Loki sat down next to him. Unsure if this was right, he reached out and put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. The human didn’t stop crying; he just curled up in a tighter ball and sobbed harder. The jotun closed his eyes against his own rising tears, to his shock. _I care_ , he thought, dazed. _I care about Tony Stark_.

He tightened his fingers, ever so gently, letting the other man know he was there. Long moments passed, and Loki heard Peter and Emma laughing at something as they walked closer. Tony hunched down further, hiding from them.

“They’ll not see or hear you,” Loki murmured, drawing an illusion around them both.

When Peter and Emma stepped around the corner of the ship, they looked right through the two of them. “There’s his cart,” Peter said.

“Yeah, but he’s not here, so let’s just go.” Emma was already edging toward the door.

Peter followed her. “What about Loki?”

“He can get lunch for himself,” the redhead said tartly, ignoring her blush as she remembered her embarrassing scene from two nights ago. She still hadn’t been able to face him or Zoe, though she knew she needed to change that.

“Okay.” As he fell into step with her, Loki heard the man say softly, “So I wanted to ask you something. Got some time to talk?”

Whatever Emma said to that question was lost over Tony’s sobs. The billionaire barely cared at the moment. A single slip of his tongue had finally unleashed all of the grief he’d kept so carefully locked away.

 _My fault,_ he moaned to himself. _All my fault._ Pepper: dead when the first wave of Iron Suits had attacked the conference she was at. The terrorists had been trying to draw him out, but he’d been in Bosnia with the other Avengers, dealing with yet another crisis. So they’d brought the building down, and she’d died inside. Steve had found her body, he remembered, but he’d refused to let Tony look at her. He’d gotten the image later from cameras in the area. He couldn’t believe until he’d seen.

Then Bruce had been next to fall to the Iron Suits. This time, they’d been government sanctioned and sent by Ross. That asshole hadn’t been happy until the Hulk was dead, and he hadn’t cared that he was dragging Tony’s science bro into the grave with him. Rhodie had brought his body to Tony, for him to bury. His birth family hadn’t wanted him anymore, so his Avenger family saw him to his final rest.

Then Steve, the final blow. Only this time, it hadn’t been Iron Suits; it had been Tony’s bad choices. He should have known that HYDRA would have something that dangerous. He should have upgraded Steve’s armor. He should have locked Steve in a cell to protect him. Anything other than just stand by while he died.

He hadn’t grieved for any of them. Oh, there’d been a few tears but he’d locked the pain behind booze and work, until he was numb to it. He’d been so numb that he hadn’t seen Emma until it was too late. It wasn’t that he’d probably lost her to that young asshole Quill: he hadn’t realized he was falling for her until he’d pushed her too far away.

So he came, to this low spot in his life. He was sobbing like a baby in front of Loki, the Invader of New York, who was comforting him. Tony should be pushing him away, but he realized that somewhere along the way, Loki had become a friend. Not like Bruce had been, all nice and smart and willing. He was what Bruce might have been like though, if he hadn’t had to keep the monster in check; he favored kicking someone in the ass to motivate them, a trait Tony couldn’t help but admire a little.

All the revelations left him dizzy, so he stayed on the floor, Loki’s hand stabilizing him. When he finally felt like he could raise his head, Loki was watching him with mild concern. The fact that Tony could see any emotion at all told him that the jotun was _truly_ worried. “I’m fine,” he said gruffly, pushing to his feet and scrubbing at his face.

“Very well.” Loki rose as well and moved to the tool cart, quietly waiting for Tony to tell him what he needed. Like Pepper had done. Like Bruce had done. Like Emma did, though not as quietly.

Tony stuck his head back in the opening, paused, and leaned back out. Loki was a friend, so Tony said, “Thank you.”

There was true warmth in those green eyes. “You’re welcome.”

They went back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions this week: (repeated from Sloppy; I'll keep repeating these questions until I get some answers! :p)
> 
> 1) Who's your favorite Age of Miracles character so far and why?
> 
> 2) What's been your favorite plot or scene in the fiction so far? Why? What would you like to see more or less of in the story?  
>    
> Now for links!  
> For some sci-fi fun brought to you by both Malachite and Deprough, check out serial web novel, [Thirteen](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/about/)! We're over twenty chapters in, it updates twice a week on Mondays and Fridays, and is free to read!
> 
> For more romance, check out Deprough's Accords short stories on Amazon: There's [Deep Blue](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017IZS18W?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_2&sr=8-2) and [The Yule Miracle](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017OM7RZW?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1) so far!
> 
> For some vampire sci-fi fun check out Deprough's [City of Promise](http://smile.amazon.com/City-Promise-Dawn-Prough-ebook/dp/B008X7JEAE/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1450101256&sr=1-3), also on Amazon!
> 
> If you like what you see on Amazon, on [Fifth Column Publishing](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/), and here on Archive of Our Own, please consider contributing to our [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=568042&ty=h) so we can continue to write for you! Thanks!


	79. Weird

Phil hated being helpless, yet he often seemed to come to that place when dealing with Zoe. Once, he’d been unable to do anything personal for her, and had been forced to operate from a distance. Now that he was close to her and even building a friendship, he was helpless to aid her with her medical problems -- and he didn’t even mean her pregnancy.

No, the problem with her DNA was the issue picking at his brain. Now there was a second case of spontaneous powers for them to look at, and it made it obvious that HYDRA hadn’t known any more than SHIELD or the Avengers what was going on with Zoe and their own soldier. That’s why he’d spent most of his free time for the last several days going over both medical records and digging through every scrap of HYDRA intelligence he’d managed to collect since the purge of SHIELD.

He was wrong; the files didn’t hold the answer. They did, however, hold an elimination of a possible answer, and that was _something_. Gathering up his research, he set out to find Zoe. She’d been scarce the past couple of days; she’d canceled her lessons with both Natasha and Verun. JARVIS informed him that she was in the Sanctuary University building at the moment, which meant a bit of a trek across the cavern. He didn’t mind, though - it meant she was getting out some and not just locking herself in her apartment.

When he got close and heard the violin, Phil started to smile. It was good to see her returning to her music. He pushed open the doors as quietly as he could and entered the room.

She stood with her eyes closed, her bow sweeping back and forth over the strings. Phil leaned against the closed door and enjoyed the music. He waited until she was done before he moved again. “Bravo,” he said, resisting the urge to clap. “Lovely.”

She smiled and nodded. “Thanks. It’s a variation on the song your gift sings when I hold it.” She set the instrument back in its case, then inspected the bow for any loose strings. “Do what do I owe the pleasure of an audience?”

“I bear news that is both good and bad.” Phil caught his words. _‘I bear news?’ I need to spend less time with Thor._

Zoe’s eyebrows rose as she finished putting the violin away. “Oh? Bad first. Better to end on a good note.”

“The bad is that I went through every HYDRA record we have for clues about what is going on with you and didn’t find anything,” Phil said, holding up the print out he’d brought with him. “That’s good because it means we’ve eliminated them as any possible source of your changes.”

She took the papers, perusing them and sighing. “Yeah, that seemed to be where this was going, after we find out about the Gerig guy. But if they didn’t do this, then why did it happen?”

“I’m not sure,” Phil admitted. “We probably need to go back to the Asgardians. Their database of the weird is a lot larger than ours.”

Zoe made a face but nodded and shrugged. “I figured I’d have to go back there anyways. Apparently the ‘higher races’” - the quotes couldn’t have been more audible if she’d actually just _said_ ‘quotes’ - “have _two year_ long pregnancies, so I need to find out where exactly on the scale of torture Loki now falls. I’m guessing somewhere between ‘thumb screws are your new favorite personal accessory’ and ‘Torquemada’s favorite scapegoat’.”

Phil laughed a little _too_ enthusiastically. “Let him have it with both barrels, I say.”

She gave him a level look and returned sardonically, “I’ll be sure to let you know when I get out the rack.” She glanced around the room, which had been her serene sanctuary of the past few days, and sighed. “Alright. Back to the land of too much gold and not enough therapists. Do you want to come along?”

“I’d love to.” He hadn’t ever been to that realm, and he was _really_ looking forward to seeing it. “Assuming I’m welcome,” he added as he recalled mentions of Odin’s dislike of mortals.

“Hah!” Zoe gave a rough laugh. “I’m only welcome because of the parasite,” she said, pointing to her midsection. “But Odin said I could come and go whenever I wanted. I guess if Heimdall refuses to pick us up, that’ll be an answer. We should let someone know before we just poof, though.”

“You sure you don’t want to take someone more ‘higher race’-like?” Phil asked, a touch nervous at the thought of basically crashing another realm without a ‘proper’ invitation.

“I suppose we could ask Verun or Thor to come with us, but. . .” she shrugged. “I dunno, it’d be kinda nice to have someone along that’s. . . more like me?” _Do I even get to call myself human anymore?_

“I don’t know how alike we are given that you’re a lot prettier and better at music than me,” Phil said with a pleased chuckle, “but I’m honored. Shall we go find someone?”

In finding Verun they found most of the rest of the Avengers and the Guardians, sparring in the reinforced rooms set up to handle the more-than-humans. They waited until her current bout - an impressive match between her and the green-skinned Gamora - had finished before flagging her over. “Mind playing tour guide for us while we visit Asgard? I need to ask the doctor lady there some more about my DNA issues.”

“Of course,” Verun said, rubbing the sweat from her face with a towel. It was the first time that Zoe could remember her breaking a sweat at all. “Allow me to tell Bucky.”

“Of course,” Phil said, watching as she crossed the room to speak to the metal-armed soldier. He pulled her into a hug and gave her a sweet kiss, mindless of their audience. In the days since the fight at Polygon, the two had been nearly inseparable. Phil shook his head. “I never would have put those two together, personally.”

“Why not?” Zoe asked curiously. “They seem great for each other.”

“An intergalactic traveler and a cryogenically frozen soldier from the 1950’s.” Phil glanced at her. “I mean, when you say it like that, it seems pretty weird.”

“Kinda like wormhole physicist and crown prince of another planet? Or telekinetic musician and royal exile?” She grinned and shook her head. “We’re all kinda weird here, Phil.”

“Yeah.” He grinned as Verun walked back to them. “It’s also pretty awesome.”

“You sure he doesn’t want to come along for the ride?” Zoe asked her friend brightly. The more allies she could have around on Asgard, the better she’d feel.

Verun smiled, a delighted expression that lit up her face. Her green eyes sparkling, she said, “I think he’d like that.” Turning, she waved at him, and he jogged over. As Verun had predicted, he was more than willing to go with them.

“Never thought a kid from Brooklyn would get to space,” he said with a grin.

“You’ve alredy been once,” Phil reminded him.

Bucky nodded. “It’s never going to get dull, no matter how many times I go.”

“Not with all the polish they use on gold!” Zoe quipped, laughing at her own off-beat joke.

The foursome headed for the surface in good spirits. Verun and Bucky were holding hands and smiling, while Phil and Zoe discussed their favorite restaurants in various cities of the world. The Bifrost teleportation spot was hidden under a tarp, and two of the farmhand/guards went with them to put the cover back in place after -- assuming that Heimdall took them.

Zoe looked up at the sky and asked hesitantly, “Um, Heimdall? We’d like to go to Asgard. Please.”

Rainbow-hued light surrounded them in a rush of energy and movement. A moment later the light faded and they were in the golden circle of the Bifrost building. “Zoe Satelle, Lady Verun, greetings,” he said in his deep, rich voice. “The king has been informed of your arrival and awaits you in the palace.”

“That’s the palace?” Phil asked, recovering from his shock enough to speak. He pointed at the massive golden building in the far distance. “I’m guessing there’s no bus. Zoe, you okay to walk it?”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “I’m pregnant, Phil, and _barely_. I’m not an invalid, I can walk.”

“Just checking,” he said quickly, holding up his hands in innocence.

The walk to the palace took forever, but Verun acted as an impromptu tour guide, pointing out landmarks and answering questions. “No,” she said patiently when Zoe asked her most pressing question. “I don’t know where the water comes from, or where it goes.”

“It makes no _sense_ ,” Zoe insisted as they walked up the steps to the palace. “It should have run out forever ago. Except that it shouldn’t even really be a waterfall. It just goes into _space_.”

“It’s magic, or close enough,” Bucky replied. He suddenly spun Verun into his arms, then out, as he started to sing, “That old black magic, has me under her spell--” The two of them danced the rest of the way up the steps, laughing and singing, Verun’s black hair and dress floating behind them.

They sobered up, though their cheeks remained flushed, when they entered the palace proper. Odin awaited them in his throne room, and Verun took to her knee. The men hesitated, then nodded respectfully, unwilling to bow to another kingdom’s king.

Zoe also kept to her feet, giving a nervous little wave to the nobleman. “Hi. Um, could we talk to the doctor I saw last time? Who I just realized I forgot her name. . .” She trailed off nervously, trying not to fidget like a kid in the principal's office.

“Are you ill? Is there something wrong with the child?” Odin asked, true concern ringing through his gravely voice.

She shook her head quickly. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. But, uh, we found out that the people we thought responsible for me changing, well, weren’t. So now we’re trying to figure me out. Again. And, um, I wanted to check on some things Loki told me. About pregnancies here.”

“Of course.” He waved and Hogan stepped forward. “Please take them to Eir.” They turned to go, and Odin said, “Come see me before you depart.”

Zoe nodded and hurried after Hogun, trusting the others to follow her. “Eir, Eir,” she repeated to herself, trying to memorize the name. _I wonder if she’s the Aesir equivalent of an obgyn. Or midwife? Is that what they do on Asgard? Great, now I’m babbling in my head._

They were lead back to the Healing Room; now that Zoe had a chance to really look around, she decided she liked the space. It was made almost entirely of curves, potted flowering plants, and jewel-toned bowls with water rippling serenely in them. The only medical device she could see was the examination table. Eir smiled at them when they filed in, motioning to a wall lined with low couches covered in deep cushions.

After introductions, she took Zoe’s hands before the white-haired woman could sit and asked, “How are you doing, my dear?”

“Okay,” Zoe said, mostly truthfully. “I had a couple of questions to ask you, if that’s alright.”

Eir smiled kindly at the young woman. “Of course. To allow me to give accurate answers, let me do a scan first.” She helped Zoe onto the table again and took a scan, then let her sit up. “What can I answer for you today?”

“Um, well, really scary question first, I guess. Loki said that pregnancies among the Vanir and Aesir last two years.” She tried not to squeak that last part, then took a breath and asked, “How long do Jotun pregnancies last? Can you tell how long this pregnancy will be?”

“As a higher race, they gestate for two of your cycles, as well.” Eir looked at the screen. “And you’re right on track for that, based on the growth I’ve seen between your last visit and now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions this week: (repeated from Sloppy; I'll keep repeating these questions until I get some answers! :p)
> 
> 1) Who's your favorite Age of Miracles character so far and why?
> 
> 2) What's been your favorite plot or scene in the fiction so far? Why? What would you like to see more or less of in the story?  
>    
> Now for links!  
> For some sci-fi fun brought to you by both Malachite and Deprough, check out serial web novel, [Thirteen](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/about/)! We're over twenty chapters in, it updates twice a week on Mondays and Fridays, and is free to read!
> 
> For more romance, check out Deprough's Accords short stories on Amazon: There's [Deep Blue](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017IZS18W?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_2&sr=8-2) and [The Yule Miracle](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017OM7RZW?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1) so far!
> 
> For some vampire sci-fi fun check out Deprough's [City of Promise](http://smile.amazon.com/City-Promise-Dawn-Prough-ebook/dp/B008X7JEAE/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1450101256&sr=1-3), also on Amazon!
> 
> If you like what you see on Amazon, on [Fifth Column Publishing](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/), and here on Archive of Our Own, please consider contributing to our [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=568042&ty=h) so we can continue to write for you! Thanks!


	80. Self Preservation

Zoe closed her eyes and debated how likely it was she could resurrect the Spanish Inquisition and sic them on her boyfriend. “Right,” she mumbled to herself. “Okay. To do list: kill boyfriend. At least a little. For the next two years. Maybe a lot.”

Phil hid a smile, while Verun suggested, “Perhaps next time you should wait for marriage before having sex with Loki.” Bucky nodded in silent, old-fashioned agreement with her words.

“Thanks, mom.” Zoe shot her friend a dirty look, then included the new Captain America in her glare when she saw him nodding along. “I’ll be sure to consult you and dad on the details of my sex life from now on.”

“Well I think it’s a bit late for _that_ ,” Verun said.

Quickly, Phil interrupted, “What were your other questions, Zoe?”

She took the segue and focused back on Eir. “So, we thought that some people called HYDRA were responsible for the changes to my DNA - my OM strands - but it doesn’t look like they were, so we’re trying to figure out what happened all over again. No one on Earth, at least that we know of, has ever had something like this happen to them, so we wanted ask if you had any ideas, or maybe a medical database we could look through. Especially since the baby seems to be like me, too.”

“I have been researching your condition, but to be honest - the best way I can determine what is happening to you is for an extended stay in Asgard with ongoing testing.” Eir drew a small bag out of a drawer and carefully emptied it onto the table. The pieces of jewelry glinted under the lights as she continued, “I’d ask you to wear these monitors constantly so that we can learn your body rhythms and develop a baseline. Would this be possible?”

Zoe bit her lip. She didn’t like the idea of staying on Asgard for an extended period, but she also really wanted to find out what was going on with her and the baby. “Would Loki be able to come and visit me? Spend the night, I mean? I can’t really sleep without him anymore.” At the very carefully blank looks from her companions, she rolled her eyes and clarified, “My temperature does hiking expeditions every night unless I’m touching him. Somehow, that evens me out and I can actually get some sleep.”

Eir’s expression chilled as Zoe spoke. “We would need to speak to Odin. He set the terms of the exile, so he would be the only one who could lift them.”

The human woman nodded. “Okay, but in a choice between sleeping or not, I’ll go back to Earth and look for answers there.”

“If you could give us some time, we might be able to find a solution to the temperature fluctuations.” Eir attempted a conciliatory smile. “I doubt they could do the same on Midgard.”

“Maybe,” Zoe conceded, “but I think those two need to start talking anyways. They have some fights to get over and done with and need to figure out how they’re going to deal with each other with a kid in the mix, and I’m not going to have them doing that _in front of_ said kid.” _I wonder if I could get Sam to take them on. Nah, he’s got too much self-preservation to agree._

Eir looked startled at her words. “Then you must speak with the King. Perhaps,” she added with disapproval, “with more respect than you just did?”

“If Odin sees all, he already knows how Zoe feels,” Bucky said, his protective instincts bringing him automatically to the young woman’s defense. “And how she’s putting her kid before others, as a mom should. Besides, isn’t this Odin’s heir?”

That thought brought a look of horror to the doctor’s expression, and she had no response. Instead she showed Zoe how to wear the monitors: Zoe left the room with a hair clip, a ring, and a necklace, all beautifully rendered in gold.

As they left the Healing Room for an audience with the King, Zoe grinned at Bucky. “So, do we start doing a ‘dawning horror’ look count each time someone realizes that the next heir to the throne is some non-Aesir Jotun-human hybrid? Because I gotta tell you, I’m gonna keep that expression in mind every time someone here says something snarky or condescending about humans or Loki.”

“Or you could bring it up,” Verun suggested with a wry smile. “And as a note, everyone is forgetting that the child is a jotun-human-vanir hybrid. It will be the first time that the throne of Asgard isn’t held by an Aesir.”

“Sometimes new blood in the management is for the best,” Bucky added.

Phil remained silent, his mind already thinking ahead to the future, when Zoe’s centuries old child grew old without his or her mother, surrounded by enemies who hated them for the blood in their veins. _Odin’s going to need to make sure the child has support and protection._ “If the babe is the heir,” he reminded grimly, “that’s only going to make people more adamant they grow up here, in the kingdom they’ll be ruling.”

“We’ll see,” Zoe said with determination, a fierce surge of protectiveness passing through her and surprising her. “I’m not going to let them be raised to hate their own heritage, though. Or see it as somehow less than the heritage of the Aesir. And I’m pretty sure therapy should just be mandatory at this point. Also, diplomacy lessons. _Actual_ diplomacy, not just ‘I have a bigger stick’ diplomacy.”

“Contrary to what Loki may have told you,” Odin said as they walked into the throne room, “I attempted to teach both of the children diplomacy. I was listening to you speak, as the doctor examined you. We have to speak about my son being free in Asgard again.”

Zoe blinked. “So, uh, medical privacy isn’t a thing on Asgard, then?” The question was more startled than accusatory. She shook her head and moved on, squaring her shoulders and facing the imposing man straight on.  “The comment on diplomacy wasn’t about what you taught your sons, it’s about how _you’ve_ talked to and treated the humans that have been on Asgard.” She shrugged and folded her arms in front of her. “I’m not naive enough to think that my disapproval matters to you, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with that sort of attitude being passed on to my child.”

“Midgard has long been seen as beneath us.” Odin wasn’t quite apologetic, but Verun was surprised at how close he was coming to expressing regret. “Attitudes change slowly among the longer-lived races. So what do you want to do, Zoe?”

“Would you allow Loki to come and spend the nights here with me on Asgard, if I were to stay so Eir can monitor me and the baby?” Zoe softened a little, as surprised as Verun at the one-eyed man’s not-quite admission. It heartened her; perhaps some sort of peace could be made between the king and exiled prince.

“Yes, provided that Verun accompanies him to and from Asgard.” Odin looked at the vanir woman, noting her body tightening. “You’ll be paid, as normal.”

“No, I won’t accept payment for this,” Verun replied. “This is for the health of my brother, his… paramour, and his child. However, I usually have other things to do in the evenings.”

“Can those things be done here?” Odin asked, his voice holding impatience.

“With the inclusion of another Midgard guest,” Verun said, “or if I could return to Midgard rather than staying the whole night. Perhaps I could stay with him until he’s with Zoe, then return?”

“That is acceptable.” The AllFather’s blue eye shone with shrewd knowing. “Zoe, is this acceptable to you? To be Loki’s keeper while he is here?”

Zoe had to actually bite down on her lip to keep from laughing at that mental image. “Uh, sure. Though I’m not really going to be able to stop him from . . . much of anything. I can try to talk him out of doing stuff, but I’m not going to be able to teleport after him or physically restrain him. Just sayin’.”

“I suspect you have influence over him,” Odin replied with dry amusement. “Men change when children are involved.”

“They certainly freak out,” she muttered softly to herself. To Odin she said, “So, we’re good to go? I’ll be staying here for a bit and Loki can come stay with me at night, so long as Verun plays escort to get him here?”

“Yes. He is to stay with you until Verun retrieves him in the morning.” Odin clearly wanted Loki to know his boundaries. “Verun, retrieve him now.”

“As you command,” she said, bowing.

~  *  ~  *  ~

“She has to stay?” Loki asked, whining sharply. He _hated_ being forced to return to Asgard, especially since he was to be _monitored_ by his twin or Zoe.

“Do you wish for a healthy wife and child?” Verun asked.

“She’s not my wife!” Loki snapped.

Verun shot him a dark look. “She _should_ be.”

“She doesn’t wish to be married, not at this time,” he said primly. “I’m respecting her wishes.”

Verun rolled her eyes, just as they stepped into the rooms set aside for Zoe. Servants bustled around, bringing fresh flowers and bedding, while the Warriors Three lingered in the background. Zoe was on a settee, looking vaguely annoyed at all the fuss.

“Asgard has a lot of _stuff,_ ” she commented to the twins. “I feel like I’m some princess staying at the Waldorf Astoria or something.”

Verun smirked, her expression so similar to Loki’s that Zoe wondered how people couldn’t have seen their relationship. “It is a palace.”

“Enjoy the luxury,” Volstagg boomed from behind her. “You deserve the honor.”

“Yes, all the honor for carrying the bastard heir to the crown,” Loki said sardonically, glaring at the three men. “What are you doing here?”

Zoe arched a brow at Loki’s use of the term ‘bastard’. “Odin assigned them to be my bodyguards,” she said, with only a touch of resignation in her tone. “Apparently the mortal needs ‘round the clock babysitters so she doesn’t....I dunno, steal the silver or something.” She got an impish expression and added, “Just the silver, though. No one would notice if you stole some gold around here.”

“Indeed,” Loki said, still scowling at the trio. “Are you planning to be here around the clock, or will I be allowed to sleep without you watching me?”

“We will sleep in another room,” Hogun said, his expression impassive. “There are suites attached to this one.”

“Good. I didn’t want you three around while I attempt to defile Zoe again,” the jotun-vanir hybrid sneered, just to watch the men twitch at his vulgar language.

Zoe snorted and gave her lover a grin. “You better do more than ‘attempt’.”

“Oh, I shall do it most thoroughly,” he promised in a purr, curling around her on the settee. “In a dozen ways so that all may hear your sweet cries of release.”

“I’m leaving.” Verun spun and stalked out of the room, and Hogun took a step, almost following her. Volstagg tried to look more prim, which just had him looking constipated or perhaps hungry. Only Fandral didn’t seem nonplussed.

Zoe let Loki kiss her for a moment, but then pushed him off, laughing. “All well and fine, but I’m actually _not_ that much into an audience, and you didn’t manage to run them off completely.” She snuggled into him, luxuriating in the way his touch made her feel. “Although I do fully expect you keep me feeling sexy even when I’m the size of a beached whale. So, that’s you challenge for the next, guh, _two years._ Stupid longer pregnancies. What are they doing in the womb that long, learning calculus?”

“I assume they’re growing,” Loki remarked, idly playing with her white hair.

Zoe arched a brow at him. “You know what assumptions make, don’t you?”

Loki groaned and pinned her down to the sette, kissing her deeply; when his hands turned to pulling at her clothing, for the first time in their years of service the Warriors Three decided that retreat was the better part of sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions this week: 
> 
> 1) This isn't strictly a romance fic, but it obviously has romance in it. Who is your favorite pairing in the MCU and why?
> 
> 2) If you could make yourself into an Avenger, what powers would you have?  
>    
> Now for links!  
> For some sci-fi fun brought to you by both Malachite and Deprough, check out serial web novel, [Thirteen](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/about/)! We're over twenty chapters in, it updates twice a week on Mondays and Fridays, and is free to read!
> 
> For more romance, check out Deprough's Accords short stories on Amazon: There's [Deep Blue](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017IZS18W?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_2&sr=8-2) and [The Yule Miracle](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017OM7RZW?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1) so far!
> 
> For some vampire sci-fi fun check out Deprough's [City of Promise](http://smile.amazon.com/City-Promise-Dawn-Prough-ebook/dp/B008X7JEAE/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1450101256&sr=1-3), also on Amazon!
> 
> If you like what you see on Amazon, on [Fifth Column Publishing](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/), and here on Archive of Our Own, please consider contributing to our [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=568042&ty=h) so we can continue to write for you! Thanks!


	81. Chaos

Mandatory fun was still as horrible as when Zoe had last experienced it in the hospital; a banquet in her honor was new though, and one didn’t say no to the King of Asgard, at least not when he was being nice to her. His efforts to make her welcome were more formal than they needed to be, but he was trying. She couldn’t say the same for the other Asgardian nobles. They were polite, on the surface. It was underneath those words where the barbs came out.

_ I feel like I’m in a fantasy version of Mean Girls, _ she thought, while holding her frozen smile in place as some blonde Aesir woman with too many braids and silks finished explaining how to use the utensils at the table. “Thank you for the explanation,” Zoe said, her voice syrupy sweet. “I can tell how taxing it was for you to remember all that.”

The noble woman pulled her perfect lips back from perfect teeth. “I can write it down for you, oh, but you can’t read, can you, poor dear?”

“Actually, I read, write, and speak half a dozen languages. Oh, but Asgard only has one, right? That must be helpful for you.” Zoe sipped at her water, wishing she wasn’t pregnant and could get tipsy enough to dull the edges of the evening. 

“Why, yes, a unified language  _ does _ help our culture and people advance.” She took a hefty drink of the wine, the drink staining her lips pink. “I hear that Midgard has hundreds of disparate cultures that all fight with one another.”

“We find strength in diversity.” Zoe was proud that she managed to say that without getting defensive; she was aiming for patronizing. “Different points of view and different ways of thinking make the whole greater than the sum of its parts. Plurality is what allows us to continually change, adapt, and evolve. Also, you’ve been misinformed.” She waited the beat for the woman to bristle and clarified, “It’s  _ thousands _ .”

The woman snorted. “Sounds like a swarm of chaos and disruption. Asgardians manage to have differing opinions without fracturing our culture.”

“A little bit of chaos does the soul good,” Zoe shot back without a pause. “It keeps you from getting,” she gave the woman a deliberate once-over, “stale.”

“I can see why you’re  _ aligned  _ with Loki, then,” the woman growled, her purple eyes flashing with anger. “It’s all very cl--”

“Lady Hellin.” Her blond guard, Fandral, leaned between them with a charming smile. “I think that Lord Ganlluf is trying to get your attention. Over there. Across the room.” 

With a sniff, Hellin rose from the bench and disappeared into the crowds. “Ah, the air is now much nicer, is it not?” Fandral asked her with a smile.

She grinned back at him. “Like a cool breeze on a hot day.” She motioned to the now free spot at the banquet bench. “Care to sit? Pleasant company would be a nice change of pace for the evening.”

He smiled and sat. “Please be kind to them. Our society has been much the same for millennia; we do not change easily.”

She shook her head. “And I used to think the sixty-and-over crowd at most of my performances were stuck in their ways.” She glanced around the room, taking in the wealth and beauty of the room and imagining that it probably looked exactly the same a century or even millennia ago. “I just can’t imagine Loki growing up here. He’s like a green and black lanky ball of chaos incarnate.”

“‘A green and black lanky ball of chaos incarnate.’” Fandral considered that description. “I have never heard him called that before. Or any prince of Asgard, actually. But understand, Prince Thor himself was quite wild when he was young, and he pulled us all into the adventures. Even Loki.”

Her grin deepened and she chuckled. “To hear Loki tell it, Thor kept trying to find new and inventive ways to commit suicide and take his friends along. Then miraculously - and always somehow involving Loki, mind you - you all managed to survive.” She sighed. “Maybe I need to hang out with the warriors instead of the nobles. They sound much more  _ fun _ and far less  _ stale. _ ”

Fandral laughed. “Why thank you. Do keep in mind, a thousand years ago, those stale nobles were fun warriors. It’s all a matter of perspective.”

“Aww, does that mean you’re going to become a stale stick-in-mud, Fandral?” she asked cheekily. “How disappointing.”

“I think I will, someday.” He made a moue of sadness. “That day is far away, and I will keep it as far away as possible, for as long as possible.” He sobered up a little. “Shall one of the Warriors Three need to keep you company tonight to keep things fresh?”

She laughed again. “I promise I’ll only cut with words. It’s up to you if you trust the other guests to do the same.”

“None will lay hand on you,” Fandral vowed with a little smile, “not with me attending you, or with Odin in the room. The danger will come from their words, and the power you give them. The physical danger will come from the dark, when you aren’t looking.”

She shivered at that. “Yay. . . and creepy. I’ll be sure to leave a nightlight on, then.”

“You will not need a nightlight, not with us watching you.” Fandral smirked boastfully. “Hogun has agreed to watch you at night. His grimness aligns him properly with the darkness, so he is the best for his job, yes?”

“Oh wonderful,” Zoe said with false glee, “Mr. Smiles is gonna watch me while I’ll sleep. That’s not nightmare-inducing at  _ all _ .”

“I’m the only one who gets to induce nightmares in you,” Loki whispered in her ear, and when she turned to look at him, he kissed her. It wasn’t just a kiss of greeting, it was a toe-curling kiss of open possession in the middle of a high-society party.

Zoe picked up on the ‘claim’ in his kiss and smiled impishly into it. She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers trailing up his neck and curling into his hair. Her nails scraped along the sensitive skin of his scalp and she pressed against him; it was total PDA and she hoped the stuck up snots at the dinner were getting their panties in a twist at their almost R-rated embrace. She nipped at his ear and asked in a low murmur, “Mmm, was that clear enough for them, or do you need to ravish me on the table now, too?”

“Hmm, decisions. Do I enjoy you while tweaking their noses but endure their stares? Or do I take you to your room and ravage you anyway?” He returned her smile and kissed her again.

“Loki. Good.” Odin’s voice cut through their embrace. “There is a plate for you at the table. I was about to share your mother’s favorite dessert with Zoe.”

“Uh oh,” she murmured while detangling herself from him. “I think we’ve been caught.” In a more conversational voice, she said, “That sounds wonderful. Would you sit next to me, Loki? The others have been leaving ample room for you all night.”

“I’m sure,” he said, glancing at Fandral. The blond slid down the bench and Loki took his spot. “Did you miss me, my darlingest mortal?”

She gave him a look that told him what she thought of that particular phrase, but she leaned into him still. “I’ve come up with a new way to describe you,” she said, her usual cheekiness rising to fore again. At his arched brow, she said, “‘A green and black lanky ball of chaos incarnate.’”

“A more accurate description would be hard to find,” Odin said from the head of the table, earning him an irritated glare from Loki. The king didn’t seem to mind his adopted son’s ire.

After a moment, Loki swallowed his anger, falling back into mockery. “Lanky? Really? I would have said ‘pleasingly made’.”

She gave him a saucy look, refusing to let him stay in a bad mood. “Who said I don’t find lanky pleasing?” she asked archly, then grinned. “Besides, I’m pretty sure if I turn you to just the right angle, you’ll disappear.”

“You’re just jealous because you’ll soon be expanding,” Loki told her with one of his smug little grins. “You only have, what, twenty-one months to your due date?”

Her eyes darkened and she gave him a hooded look. “Pregnancy. Belly. I can make it a reality on Asgard, too, mister. They make them ‘insufferably smug lanky boyfriend’ size. I checked.”

“I could just get fat with you,” he purred, plucking a morsel off her plate and feeding it to her. “Then you could rest assured that no other woman would steal me.”

She giggled at that as she took the bite; the mental image of a fat Loki was just too much. “Love, I would pop popcorn and sit on the sidelines to watch someone try to steal you. It’s be the highlight of my entertainment for the  _ decade _ .” Whatever the complications in their relationship, the sassy young mortal didn’t seem concerned at the thought of a romantic rival.

“It’s true,” he said, pitching his voice to be heard across the table. “No Asgardian can hold a candle to my mortal.”

“Be careful with your words, Loki,” Fandral warned from the other side of the jotun hybrid. “Some stale lady here might take offense at them.”

“Then you’ll have to do work,” Loki replied tartly. “I know that displeases you, but you are to defend Zoe, yes?”

The Asgardian stared at Loki. “Oh yes. I defend her while you leave her alone on Asgard.”

“Hey,” Zoe cut in, giving Fandral a frown. “He’s helping out on Earth. Don’t knock it. It may not mean much to you all here, but it’s pretty much  _ literally _ the world to us.”

“Yes, Zoe, but you are his wi-- his lady, and yet he leaves you.” He shook his head. “I would not.”

“I’m not some cringing wallflower that needs her man attached to her at the hip, Fandral.” She shrugged, leaning her head against Loki’s shoulder, “Yeah, it sucks that we’re not around each other quite as much, but even when I was on Earth he spent most of the day in the labs with Tony and the others while I trained with Verun and Natasha. We still get to see each other at night, and eventually I won’t need to stay here all the time.” 

Fandral shook his head. “Were I in love--”

“We’d all die of shock that you committed to one woman instead of every piece of ass that walks by.” For a second, Loki sounded  _ just like Tony _ , which was incredibly creepy.

“Oh? Is Fandral Asgard’s resident playboy?” Zoe asked with gossipy glee. 

“I will only say: Tony could take lessons,” Loki told her with just as much glee.

“I yield. I’ll eat elsewhere.” Fandral stood and left, drawing a triumphant grin from Loki.

Zoe gave Loki a confused look. “Yield? I thought were just talking.” She shook her head, “No offense to your homeland, Loki, but Asgardians are  _ weird _ .”

“I don’t understand Midgardians,” he retorted. “I was  _ attempting  _ to get him to leave.” He was interrupted a servant placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of both of them. When they passed, Loki dug into it, showing that under the top layer, there was a golden pudding. “He and I were locked in combat, and this is one field where I have the advantage.”

Still shaking her head, she dipped a spoon into the desert and took a careful bite. Down the table from them, Odin watched her curiously and rumbled, “What think you, Zoe?”

She couldn’t place all the flavors, but tasted like fruit and sunshine and summer all mixed together with wildflower honey. “It’s wonderful,” she said truthfully, taking another spoonful to enjoy. “What is it called?”

“Golden Pudding. Frigga loved it.” Odin took his own bite, his blue eye dimmed with sorrow. “I’m glad you like it as well. I think she would have liked to know you.”

“I-” Zoe blinked, caught off-guard by the compliment. “Thank you, your majesty.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “You’re trying too hard, Odin.” His words shattered the shocked silence from the nobles, who started to whisper among themselves. 

“I speak truth as I see it.” If the King was stung by his son’s words, he didn’t show it. Instead, his blue eye turned back to Zoe. “I’m glad you like it. You may request the kitchen make it at any time.”

“Thank you,” she said, “I will.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, guys, no questions this week. It's been rough with the toddler and I'm too tired to think. -.-


	82. Red-Handed

Emma opened the door to the Avengers’ building and stepped inside. She wasn’t sure who she’d run into, but this seemed the most likely place to run into someone. She poked her head into a couple of the main rooms, sighing when she found them empty. “JARVIS, is anyone around right now?” the red-haired astronaut questioned.

“Miss Verun is in her private quarters, Dr. Thompson,” the AI replied. “Shall I inform her that you wish to speak with her?”

“No, that’s alright JARVIS, I’ve got it,” she responded, turning down the hallway and making her way towards the Vanir woman’s rooms. They were close enough, and while Emma had no qualms about utilizing the AI when it suited her, she preferred asking people for their help in person. She reached the end of the hallway and stopped at Verun’s door, rapping a quick, rhythmic pattern at the telepath’s door. “Verun? It’s Emma, do you have a moment?”

The books on Midgard’s Russia region were spread across her table, and Verun pulled herself out of a description of the Bolshevik Revolution seconds before the knock came. She’d known it wasn’t Bucky; their link told her that he was playing with his heart-nephew. The stabilization of his emotions had brought about many changes in him, including a willingness to engage in activities that had been too painful before.

Realizing that she was ignoring Emma as she touched Bucky’s mind, she pushed her books from the edge of the table and went to answer the door. “Please, Emma, enter,” she said, moving back to allow the other woman in. “I have time.”

Emma smiled graciously as she stepped inside, but didn’t move too far into the room. “Thanks. I won’t be long, I was just wondering if you might be willing to join me in a trip up to the surface. Colonel Rhodes just arrived from D.C., I’m headed up to meet him and Tony insists someone go with me,” she explained, with a touch of annoyance at the end of her statement.

Verun smirked a little. “If his order displeases you, then why do you listen?” She was familiar enough with the Tony/Emma saga to grab a shawl and exit the room even as she spoke. She was too aware that Emma would obey the man, though not without some argument.

“This particular one?” she responded dryly. “Because it was the only way to keep him from coming instead. We’re in the middle of some very finicky installation work on the  _ Maria _ , and he’s needed more than I am at the moment, so I volunteered to go instead.” Emma led them out of the building and in the direction of the hangar bay. “What he thinks is going to happen, I haven’t a clue. Perhaps Rhodey will see me alone and go rogue, betraying one of his best friends in order to capture me and turn me over to Hammer. How he intends to do that, considering I could crumple the War Machine suit like a soda can, I have no idea.”

“Perhaps he worried that someone would snatch you off our doorstep,” Verun suggested, pulling the shawl around her bare arms and holding it closed in front of her. She had been cold since waking up this morning, an odd phenomenon for her.

“Perhaps,” she replied with a sigh. With Tony there was no way of knowing exactly which paranoid possibilities were running through his mind. Their awkward encounter over pizza hadn’t seemed to stem his protectiveness any, though it had completely terminated any romantic overtures on his part. In fact, the only reference to it at all was the first time she’d been forced to interact with him afterwards. He’d apologized briefly for any misinterpretation, and assured her there would be absolutely no future overtures. Since then they’d maintained an obviously forced over-pleasant friendliness in public, and hadn’t interacted in private at all. 

“Anyway, I appreciate you coming,” she continued as they reached the hangar bay and approached the lift. “I’m hoping that Rhodey joining us here will mean this Hammer situation can be resolved soon, and we’ll be less restricted in our pursuit of HYDRA.”

“I do not believe I have personally met him yet,” Verun replied, wondering if she could get a moment in the sun. “The last time he was in Tony’s company, I was busy with Zoe’s training.”

The two women stepped onto the lift, and Emma pressed the button that would raise them up to the surface. “He’s a pretty good guy,” she replied. “He used to be the liaison between Stark Enterprises and the U.S. military, long before Tony invented the first Iron Man suit. He stepped up after I lost control to the nanites, too. I owe him big time for that, people were calling for my arrest. It wasn’t quite Destroyer of Manhattan territory, but they called me a lot of other things; traitor, mostly. Rhodey helped with that.”

They had reached the surface by then, and Emma led Verun over to a black SUV. The two women got in and Emma started the vehicle and pulled out of the barn, guiding them onto the road leading to the nearest town. The sky was clear, giving Verun the luxury of opening up the window and soaking up the warm air and sunshine for awhile. 

Emma continued to mull over the Tony situation in the privacy of her own mind. She was jarred out of her musings by Verun saying, “If you need to talk, I can listen. Even if it is about Tony.”

Emma let out a short laugh, and Verun saw a flush of embarrassment creep across her cheeks. “Am I that easy to read? Or does everyone just assume I spend all my time obsessing about him?”

Verun smirked a little. “You’re thinking very loudly, Emma. I cannot hear words, but I can feel what you are agonizing over, and I am somewhat familiar with the situation. Or we can talk of other things, if you need a distraction.”

Verun could feel the instinctive attempt on Emma’s part to clamp down on the strength of her thought, much like the way someone would immediately lower their voice when called out for speaking too loudly. She mulled Verun’s offer over for a moment, then sighed softly. “Thank you for offering. I'm not sure what good it would do to talk about it, but all the distractions in the world can't seem to help me not think about it, either. I just don't know what to do anymore. It's like, every time I change my swing, he throws me another curveball.”

“It sounds like he is confused, too.” Verun rested her head against the window frame, relishing the warmth seeping through her skin. “Perhaps the best thing to do is nothing. If you keep adapting to him, and he keeps changing, then you should wait for him to learn his own mind.” She smiled, unconsciously playing with her engagement ring. “I know that is not the easy answer, and certainly not the one you wished to hear. But if he will not take a steady course, it is time for you to sail your own path. Do you love him?”

“Very much so,” Emma replied softly. “I can’t seem to stop either, no matter how hard I try.”

“No one can control who they love,” Verun said gently. “Not even my foster mother, who is one of the greatest arcanempaths, could change the heart in such a manner.”

“Well,” Emma replied with a wry smile, turning onto the highway that would take them into town, “I suppose that’s reassuring in a way, knowing that heartache is an affliction even the ‘greater races’ suffer from. Reassuring, or really depressing,” she finished with a laugh.

“We are not that different from one another,” Verun said, a sentiment that she wouldn’t have shared before Bucky. “So perhaps that is more reassuring for you?”

“Perhaps. I’ll let you know once I decide.” Emma glanced over at the not-so-alien woman, and noticed this time that she was still playing with the ring on her finger. “Congratulations, by the way. Bucky’s a great guy.”

“Thank you.” Verun beamed, her normally composed features shining with pure joy. “I am very fortunate to have this time with him.”

“Yes,” Emma responded thoughtfully, studying the other woman’s happy expression for a moment.  _ Even if things never work out between Tony and I, I could never regret the time I’ve spent with him either. I guess the good times are always worth it, even if you’ll always wish there were more.  _ The corner of her lips lifted in a soft but happy smile. “Yes, you certainly are.”

About a half-hour later, the two women pulled up into the parking lot of the gas station on the edge of town. Rhodey was already there, leaning against a silver rental van. He waved at them as they parked, and both women climbed out of the car.

“Rhodey!” Emma greeted the military man with a smile and a hug, which he returned warmly. 

“How’s my favorite magnet?” he asked with a little smile before covertly studying the woman behind her. 

“Oh, you know… it flux-uates,” she quipped playfully, eliciting a groan from the Colonel. “Rhodey, I don’t believe two have officially met. This is Verun of Vanaheim, a friend to Midgard. She is a skilled warrior, and a relative to the royal family. Verun, this is Colonel James Rhodes, officer and jet pilot for the United States Air Force, and the man that wears the War Machine suit.”

Verun inclined her head as the colonel nodded to her as well. “How would you like me to address you? I’ve heard many different ways to speak to you, and I would like to know which you prefer.”

“My friends call my Rhodey, though you off-worlders seem to prefer something more formal. It took me years to get Thor to finally call me just James outside of official situations.” He walked over to the side of the van, popping the handle on the door and sliding it open to reveal what looked like two large, black, military-grade transport crates. “So I’m down with whatever you choose.”

As they spoke, Emma walked over to the SUV and pulled a small black device from the console. She flipped it on and then stepped up to the military man with an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” she exclaimed, with a mildly apologetic smile. “It’s not that we don’t trust you, of course.” 

“Just the government that you used to work for?” he responded wryly as she began to scan him with the device, checking him for any hidden GPS locators or listening devices.

“Can you blame me?” Emma arched a brow at him then, even as she knelt down and waved the device around his shoes and the bottoms of his trousers. The device remained silent, and after a moment she pulled it away and stood up. 

“I suppose not,” Rhodey acknowledged, stepping back towards the van. “I might have to go inside, maybe hire a couple guys to help us lift this thing outta here.” 

Verun moved over to the van, then reached in and grabbed hold of the top crate before Rhodey could protest. “That won’t be necessary,” she said as she pulled it out of the van easily. With a small gesture, Emma directed the Vanir warrior to set the crate down in front of her.

Rhodey let out a low whistle, and shook his head in disbelief. “You know,” he commented observationally, “I spend a little time away from you guys and I almost forget  _ just _ how weird the world has gotten.”

“Doesn’t take you long to remember though, does it?” Emma replied with a grin, as the colonel leaned down and pressed his thumb to the locking mechanism on the crate. It scanned his thumbprint digitally and then let out a small beep on confirmation as the lid popped open, revealing the disassembled upper half of the War Machine suit. 

“I assume this has an internal GPS?” she asked as she scanned both the machine and crate for tracking devices. As they spoke, Verun unloaded the second crate from the van and closed the door to the rental vehicle. Rhodey nodded his thanks to the alien sorceress, locking the van with a press of a button and pocketing the keys.

“Only upon activation,” he replied, watching her movements more out of habit than any real concern. Verun could tell from the man’s stance that he wasn’t actually upset about the inspection, just annoyed at the delay. 

“Great. Sanctuary is internally shielded, so if you go out in the suit we ask only that you deactivate the GPS until you’re clear of the exit by about twenty miles or so.” She finished scanning the first half of the suit and closed it, then moved on to the second crate that Verun had unloaded. “We trusted you enough to give you the general location knowing the Air Force and SHIELD would be able to track you this far, but I’m sure you can understand that we’d prefer any entrances and exits remain secret for now.”

“Tony’s getting awfully paranoid these days,” Rhodey joked, but Emma shook her head in response.

“It’s not just Tony,” she replied seriously. “Clint is head of Sanctuary defense now, and he’s very protective of those people. The neutral location and tech scan was at his insistence.”

Rhodey nodded, his expression growing a bit more grave. “It’s no problem, I understand. The government has plenty of it’s own concerns as well, and I’ve got a list of questions I need answered before I’m allowed to offer any sort of real help. Like why all of a sudden the Avengers are running around with Loki, Destroyer of Manhattan. And info about all the new faces of course,” he commented, acknowledging Verun with a polite smile.

Emma nodded, closing the door on the second half of Rhodey’s suit. She glanced around to make sure they weren’t being visible from anyone inside the gas station and that there were no vehicles approaching on the stretch of deserted highway. Then she stood up and popped the trunk of their vehicle. With a simple gesture from the magnetist, the crates lifted up and floated into the back of the black SUV.

The three of them piled into the front seats, and Emma pressed the power button, activating the vehicle’s ignition. “Don’t worry,” she replied as she pulled out onto the road and began heading back towards Sanctuary’s hidden entrance. “I’m sure we’ve got plenty of answers for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in pain, still on meds, hopefully getting an MRI soon. -.- I may have to get shoulder surgery, but we've got a fair bit of buffer so hopefully there won't be any delay in posts. Have a great week!


	83. Meek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arm is feeling better, yay! I'm no longer a painpill zombie! Double yay! Questions will resume next week and if there's time this week Deprough and I will work on answering some of the questions we've asked (RogueWarrior is out of town).

When Zoe exited her bathing room, the dour Hogun was gone and Fandral waited. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully, munching something that looked like a pear but tasted far more like no-fat cheese. “How are you feeling?”

She gave him a pat look, her skin still pale and slightly green from the roller coaster of hormones setting in. “I’m astounding anyone has siblings at the moment,” she half joked, half groused. “Unless they’re twins.”

“When you have a hundred years to forget,” he said with a small smile, “it’s easy to only remember the sweet giggles of a child’s laughter.”

She made a sound of acknowledgement, but asked, “Then what’s humanity’s excuse? Guh. Pregnancy is just _dumb_. Why can’t we lay eggs or something?”

Fandral looked startled. “I think an egg would be worse than a baby, when I have thought of it at all, which is to say never. Well, is there something I can get you to eat? Or call for a bath?”

“How can I be both starving and utterly revolted at the idea of food at the same time?” She scrubbed her face and took a deep breath. “Okay, pity party is over. Promise. How about some of the tea Lady Eir sent me yesterday? It helped a lot. And maybe you could show me the gardens you said were nearby?”

“Yes, they’re quite close.” He went to the table and touched the blue call-stone; a moment later a servant entered. “Please make a pot of tea,” he ordered, giving the young maid a wink that made her blush.

Zoe rolled her eyes at the flirtation. _Definitely Asgard’s resident playboy. At least he actually_ **_smiles_ ** _. That Hogun guy is seriously creeping me out._ The maid curtseyed and disappeared from the room again; she was only gone for a minute or so before returning with a tea set and a hot kettle. Zoe was still trying to figure out how the servants did that. She suspected miniature Bifrost-like teleporters, but so far she could barely get any of them to talk to her beyond a polite, “As you wish.”

Fandral poured a cup for both of them, taking a seat to drink with her. “Which of the gardens would you like to see? We have a Night Garden, a Water Garden, and gardens themed around various colors. We also have a vegetable garden, should that interest you.”

“Well, it’s morning, so the Night Garden is probably not at its best right now.” She sipped at the tea, enjoying the warmth and the soothing feeling as it settled on her stomach. “Do you have one you particularly recommend? Maybe we can go look at the Night Garden later this evening?”

He smiled. “To be completely honest, Madame, I have never gone to the gardens just to enjoy them. Exploring them will be a new experience for me, as well. Let us start in the Red Garden, and see where the day takes us.”

 _These aren’t ‘gardens’_ , Zoe thought twenty minutes later. _They’re entire parks!_ She laughed as a thought struck her. “I feel like Alice in Wonderland here. It’s beautiful, but I kinda keep expecting to see a rabbit run out and tell me we’re all late!”

“Do animals speak on Midgard?” Fandral asked, confused. “I distinctly recall Thor telling me they did not. Isn’t that why your people enslave them and force them to do your bidding?”

“Do animals speak on Asgard?” Zoe asked incredulously. “And obviously you’ve never been owned by a cat. There is no sort of enslavement and bidding with _those_.”

“Most do. Some just don’t have the mouths for it.” Fandral grinned at her. “What is a ‘cat’? I’ve never heard of such a creature.”

Zoe regarded him suspiciously, but answered gamely enough. “Small furred mammal. Has a tail, pointed ears, and a god complex. We used to worship them in ancient Egypt, so it’s a chicken and egg questions as to who’s at fault on that one. So where are these talking animals? The only ones I’ve seen since I got here has been the songbirds in this garden and some large birds flying over the palace.”

“Well, the intelligent animals usually don’t live in Asgard. Slepnir is one example, but I’ve never heard anyone speak to him other than Odin.” Fandral sighed. “In truth, Madame, when an animal starts to speak to me, it’s likely a sign I shall have to do battle with it.”

“Have you ever tried?” she asked. “To talk to Slepnir? And what is Slepnir? I mean, if creatures on Asgard can communicate, then they’re not really animals, are they? Just other species to share the. . .planetoid?. . .with.”

“Slepnir is, well, Odin’s horse. He’s one of the creatures of legend. Loki bred him for Odin, using magic, as a gift.” The Aesir smiled fondly at the memory. “We all laughed when Loki presented it, since Slepnir has eight legs.”

Zoe blinked. “How does he not trip?”

Fandral laughed. “Oh, but he doesn’t, and he’s twice as fast as any other horse. He’s a brave steed; many in Asgard would have one like him, but since we laughed, Loki refuses to attempt to breed another.”

“You could try apologizing,” she offered, but didn’t sound particularly hopeful about it. Loki could hold a grudge better than a disapproving mother-in-law. “So, Slepnir was created with magic. Is that why he can talk? Are most of the speaking creatures on Asgard magical in some manner?”

“All of Asgard is magical in _some_ manner,” Fandral said unhelpfully. “You ask many questions, Zoe of Midgard.”

“I’m noticing a distinct lack of satisfying answers from Asgard,” Zoe grumbled, but mostly good-naturedly. She shrugged and added, “I’m human. We’re insatiably curious and questions are one of the best ways to learn and understand. Is that really so unusual here?”

“No,” he said with a good natured grin. “I’m just not curious about any of this. It works. It is. That is enough for me.”

“Our politicians would just _love_ you,” Zoe murmured. “What do you do with all your time, then? When you haven’t been royally ordered to play babysitter, that is.”

“I read poetry and I talk to people.” He plucked a flower in passing and gave it to her. “ _O Mistress mine, where are you roaming? O, stay and hear! your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low: Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know._ ” He had style, definitely.

She took the flower and wound it into her hair; the deep reds and purples of the petals were a vibrant splash against her snow white locks. She clapped and laughed, “Very pretty! Poetry is nearly a lost art, at least among American men. It’s a pity, really. It can be a great way to pick up a girl or stand out from the pack at a club.” She giggled, remembering Loki’s comment about the blond warrior at the banquet, “So, y’know, if you get tired of chasing skirts on Asgard, there’s four billion human women waiting to be swept off their feet with a well placed stanza. The muscles and tights don’t hurt, either.”

“I’ve not run through the course of available Asgardian women. Perhaps in a century,” he said flippantly, scooping her up in his arm. As Zoe squeaked a protest, he leapt across the small stream that ran through the middle of the garden. He set her down on the path on the other side. “I am not so haughty to think that there are no beauties worth my time on Midgard either,” he added, in the tone of someone telling her “I have black friends!”

She rolled her eyes. “I want to watch you, when you go to Earth with that attitude. I suggest wearing clothes you don’t mind getting wet. It took less than a day with Loki for him to get hot chocolate dumped on his head, and I’m not nearly as temperamental as some tipsy club bunny.”

“Oh, but you have a singular temperament,” Fandral replied, “to so meekly put up with Loki.”

That had her rolling on the grass, holding her sides. “Oh, oh god,” she was laughing so hard she could barely speak. “You don’t see us together nearly enough to say that. I don’t let Loki get away with anything I’m not fine with. I dumped my drink on him because he was insulting to a woman whose name I didn’t even know and who hadn’t heard what he’d said. I refuse to tiptoe around him and when he acts like a royally spoiled brat, I tell him so. I _expect_ better of him, just like I do of everyone else. Just like he does of me.”

“Madame, have you tried to kill him for insults against you?” Fandral asked. Her shocked look was answer enough. “Then believe me, your response is meek.”

She blinked, looking up at him. “You people are _so_ weird. Killing someone over an insult? _Why?_ ” She tilted head as a thought occurred to her, “Although Loki does know that I could kill him whenever, so maybe that’s a bit of why he minded his manners some in the beginning. But I’d never kill him over an insult. It’s both an overreaction and way too quick and easy if you’re feeling the need to _really_ retaliate.”

“I said tried. Few of the women I insulted -- unintentionally -- managed to hurt me, but I was certainly aware I’d caused insult.” He grinned. “Tonight, ask Loki about S--” He stopped short, swallowing hard.

Her brows furrowed in concern and she reached out, putting a hand on his knee. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot Sif had turned against us.” Fandral sighed, looking sad. “There was a time when I trusted both Loki and her completely. I don’t always know what to think or feel when I remember those times.”

“Wasn’t she taken over by the staff? She doesn’t have a choice about what she’d doing right now, then.” She squeezed his knee, offering what comfort she could. “It’s not her doing those things, it’s the staff using her. You can still trust _her_ and she needs our help.”

“It will not be the same,” he said softly. “So long as she remembers what he did to her, she’ll never be whole in her heart and soul again.”

Her eyes hardened at that and her voice was sharp. “That’s not true. It’s a wound, but wounds heal. _She_ decides what makes her whole or not. Trust me on that.”

“I hope you are right.” He picked another flower, spinning it in his fingers. “I can’t imagine recovering fully from that horror. From another using me to hurt my own people and threaten the entire universe. Loki recovered because he’s _Loki_. I cannot imagine anything breaking that hard mind.”

 _You don’t know him as well as you think you do_ . “Well, if she’s anything like Lady Hellin, you can just tell her that if a mortal could do, so can she,” she said aloud, trying to lighten the mood and give him hope for his friend. “Then she’ll _have_ to get better.”

“I shall remember that, though Sif has a gentler heart than that. Her discord with Jane was based solely on her love for Thor.” He flicked the flower into the air, letting the wind catch it and draw it away. “We all thought they’d marry when he grew tired of adventuring.”

“Ah.” Loki had made some remarks about Sif’s unrequited yearning for the elder prince, and Fandral’s comment put that in greater perspective. She wasn’t sure what to say after that; a few moments later she stood and brushed herself off. “Shall we find our way to the next garden? If they’re all this large, it should take all day just to see a little of each.”

“Of course. Too much moping is bad for children, regardless whether they are here or not.” He gallantly offered her an arm and led her deeper into the palace grounds.


	84. Talk

“So let me just make sure I’ve got this straight,” Rhodey began, leaning forward in his seat. They’d parted ways with Verun once they’d arrived at the underground hideaway, and Emma had brought him straight to Clint’s office where he’d been waiting, along with Natasha and Tony. Emma had been startled at his presence since he was supposed to be hard at work on the _Maria_ , but had refrained from commenting about it or from doing much more than exchanging an awkward and overly-courteous greeting with him.

“There’s a half-human, half-alien guy here who was abducted from Earth by off-world bounty hunters when he was just a kid,” Rhodey began, holding up a hand and ticking off points with his fingers. “He came with a talking raccoon, a sentient tree, a red-skinned body-builder, and a green-skinned assassin. We’ve also got a white-haired human woman that SHIELD has been following for years, who was experimented on with Loki’s sceptre. Am I getting this so far?” he asked incredulously.

“So far,” Clint replied with a wry smirk.

“Great,” the Air Force pilot stated simply, his tone more than a touch sarcastic. “We’ve also got Loki’s twin sister, no direct relation to the big guy or Daddy Asgard, though he was the one who hired her to track down Loki. Oh, and it turns out the Destroyer of Manhattan was under some sort of mind-control because of the staff, and it turns out we trust him now.”

“Well, perhaps to a certain extent--” Clint started, but it was Tony that cut him off.

“Nope, that’s basically it in a nutshell.” The rest of them glanced at him, each appearing various degrees of startled at his solid defense of the jotun. Emma seemed the least surprised, but her eyebrows still drew together in a quizzical expression. She’d seen Tony and Loki working together more lately but had assumed it had been mostly related to the fact that she’d been avoiding them both like the plague. That was made easier by the fact that a lot of the computer engineering required more of Peter’s input than the Asgardian prince’s, so she had good reason to spend most of her working time with the hot-shot space pilot instead.

“Of course, that’s just the short answer part of the test, so don’t get cocky,” Tony quipped. “The brass is gonna want the essay version I’m sure, so just check with us if you need clarification on any of it.” He stood up then at the same time as Emma, and the two of them paused, glancing hesitantly at the other before looking away.

“I’m just gonna head out-” Emma started, but at the same moment Tony resumed speaking.

“Well, I guess I’d better get back-” he began, his words tumbling out and mixing with hers. They both stopped, watching the other one warily for a moment, before Tony motioned towards the door. “After you,” he offered, gesturing politely towards the door.

She nodded, and slipped out with a simple farewell to Rhodey and an offer to speak with him later regarding some of the details they’d skimmed over. Tony waited till she was gone before leaving, making excuses about being in the middle of a big project but assuring Rhodey he was around and available if needed. He turned left out of the office, the opposite direction that Emma had taken.

Rhodey watched Tony leave, then turned back to the two ex-SHIELD agents with an arched brow and a low whistle. “What in the hell is going on there?” he asked.

“Nothing good,” Clint said sourly.

“It’s getting pretty ridiculous,” Natasha agreed. “They were acting almost normal again, and now it’s like they can barely look at each other.”

“Maybe a little more detail,” Rhodey prompted, “for those of us who have no idea what you’re talking about?”

Clint and Natasha exchanged a brief glance, and Clint shrugged slightly before turning back to the other man. “You’re one of his oldest friends , maybe you can talk some sense into him. I’ve tried with her, and haven’t really gotten anywhere. Okay, sit down, this is going to take some explaining.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

Rhodey stopped short at the door to Tony’s lab, staring. Rocket, Loki, and Tony stood in the midst of a dismantled Iron Man suit. The colonel frowned at another example of the trust his friend placed in the Invader of New York.

“You can say it however you like,” Rocket snapped, “but we’ve done the tests. Nothin’ stops that gun.”

“We have to assume that HYDRA still has one, or at least the ability to make another.” Tony rubbed his beard, his brown eyes far away. “Sooner or later, Gerig is going to bring one into a fight.” He caught sight of Rhodey and blinked, pulling his mind away from his thoughts of shields and defenses. “Hi! What’s up?”

“What’s up is that I need dinner, and I know you’ll have the best food around,” Rhodey said, forcing joviality he didn’t feel.

“Can I take a raincheck?” Tony asked. “You are right, I do have the best food, but we’re trying to figure this out, Rhodey.”

“This is Colonel Rhodes?” Loki took another look at him and Rhodey resisted the urge to shudder. Instead, he kept his expression blank as those green eyes studied him. “It’s a pleasure, Colonel.”

Rhodey squelched his immediate response, which was something a lot more hostile than was probably wise in the current situation. “Loki. I’d heard you were back on Midgard,” he replied neutrally. “How has your stay in Sanctuary been so far?”

“Enlightening,” the alien prince replied with a wry smile. “How very tactful this one is, Stark. Are you quite sure he’s one of your friends?”

“Oh yeah. He’s just not in his suit at the moment,” Tony quipped. “He’d have decked you by now otherwise.”

“That wouldn’t have stopped you, but perhaps the Colonel is smarter than you are,” Loki replied mischievously as he turned back to the room. “You should go dine with your friend, Tony. We can handle this for now.”

“I’m sure Rhodey understands--” Tony started, but Loki cut him off with a shake of his head.

“We can manage without you for a couple hours, and I’m sure you and the Colonel have much to discuss.” The lanky alien turned to Rocket, who waved a paw dismissively in Tony’s direction.

“You heard him, Stark,” the raccoon replied, only halfway paying attention. “Go have some dinner, you humies think better on a full stomach anyway.”

Tony glanced between the two of them and then shrugged, turning to Rhodey. “Alright then, looks like I’ve got time after all. C’mon, I’ve got a kitchen in my private suite and I haven’t had a good steak in a while,” he commented with what sounded, for some reason, like a touch of self-deprecating sarcasm.  “Let’s have dinner.”

They made their way to the billionaire’s living area, and Rhodey made himself at home with a drink while Tony started the steaks sizzling and set the water to boiling for potatoes.

“What, no instant?” the military man joked. “I didn’t know you knew how to cook.”

“What can I say, I own controlling stock in the Food Network,” Stark replied jokingly. They talked for a bit as Tony fixed dinner, each one getting the other caught up on more in-depth knowledge of what had been happening in each other’s circles of influence since the retreat to Sanctuary had forced Tony underground.

“I just can’t believe you think he’s trustworthy,” Rhodey replied reluctantly, after the subject had inevitably turned to Loki. “After the way shit went down in New York, man.”

“I didn’t at first,” Tony explained with a shrug. “Believe me, I gave him hell and fought it every step of the way. But he put up with my shit, no matter how much it grated. He played by the rules we set, and he stepped up when we needed it. Even when I didn’t want his help.” He moved a steak from the stovetop to a plate, added a scoop of mashed potatoes, and slid it in front of Rhodey with a fork and knife. “Besides, we’ve got too many people verifying Loki’s claims; Verun, Gamora, and the Big Guy of Asgard himself - Odin. What can I say? After what happened with Emma and those nanites, is it really so hard to believe?”

“I guess not,” Rhodey replied reluctantly, “but I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t sign up for the fan club just yet.” He grabbed his plate and sliced into the expensive cut of beef. Tony had given him the perfect opening, so he might as well jump in and take it. “So speaking of Emma, what the hell is going on with you two?”

“Not a damned thing,” Tony responded with a touch of bitterness.

“That’s not what it looked like,” Rhodey replied, arching a brow. “That scene back in the office was pretty awkward.”

“Awkward as hell, but that doesn’t mean anything’s going on.” The former ladies’ man slid the second steak onto his own plate, and began to attack it almost viciously with the knife. “Believe me, I tried. She shut me down, that’s the end of it.”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit,” Rhodey replied. “Women don’t turn you down, and _if_ they do you don’t even care because there’s a dozen lined up behind her. Let’s hear the whole story, Stark.” He sighed at the stubborn look on Tony’s face. “It’s having an effect on your team, man. You need to work this out.”

“It _is_ worked out!” Tony threw his hands up in the air. “No means no, right?”

“Tony.” It was all the colonel said, and that single word held everything he needed to say. With a growl, Tony pushed his food away and told his friend the whole story, from him drawing Emma into the Avengers until their last, disastrous encounter.

“Damn.” Rhodey shook his head as he took his last bite. “You know, you could have handled that worse, but she doesn’t have a puppy to run over.”

“Shut up.” Tony picked up his fork and picked at his cold steak. “I thought you were going to give me the answer to all my problems.”

“Honestly, my advice is to talk to her.” Rhodey raised his hands to fend off the argument Tony was already framing. “For real, man. You can’t bullshit your way out of this, you can’t charm her pants off because she knows your game, and you _definitely_ can’t ignore it.”

“Seems to be working pretty well so far,” the billionaire replied.

“Only in your own head.” Rhodey studied him for a long beat, considering whether his next words were wise or not. “I never saw you act like a coward before.”

Tony glared at him. “It’s not cowardice.”

“Then what is it?” Rhodey asked.

“It’s respecting her wishes,” he replied tersely.

“And she seems happy with the current arrangement?And so long as you keep lying to yourself about it,” the colonel retorted., “I’ve heard how well you two are getting along now. Hell, I’ve seen it myself and I haven’t even been here a whole day yet.”you’ll continue to make both of you miserable.”

“What else am I supposed to do? FSerenade her outside her window? Chase after her like a dog in heat? No, wait, maybe I should just _force_ her to date me. You seem to have all the answers, so come on, Colonel. Which option do I start with?? Is that _really_ what you’re telling me?” Tony snapped.

Rhodey’s jaw dropped. “That’s what you think I’ve been telling you to do? Chase her until she gives in? Tony, all I’m saying is that you need to make peace with her.” He studied the other man for a beat. “You have to prepare yourself that she’s going to reject you, and be ready for that.”

“She’s already rejected me!” Tony popped to his feet and carried his dish into the kitchen. Rhodey winced as the fine steak was scraped into the trash bin. “It’s already done.”

“Jesus, you’re being dense.” Rhodey followed him with his own plate, going for another serving of the potatoes. “In all the time you two have danced this dance, you’ve never talked to her about what you two want. You’ve never asked her to date you. All you’ve done is have sex and avoid one another. Pull your head out of your ass and _talk_ to her, man.” He shoveled another forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth, watching as his words _finally_ penetrated Tony’s brain. “God, I have no idea how you’ve managed this long without me around.”

Instead of a quip, Tony said softly, “I didn’t. Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's answers to questions so far! Yay!
> 
> 1) Who's your favorite Age of Miracles character so far and why?  
> Deprough: Obviously Verun, since I made her, but there are a number of others too. I've also really enjoyed Darcy in this story, and to my surprise, Tony. 
> 
> Malachite: I've loved watching Tony's evolution. Usually my answer would be Loki by miles, but I really really like the writing (mostly done by the other two) for Tony and his interactions with Emma and Loki.
> 
> RogueWarrior: Emma is near and dear to my heart, of course. Loki and Clint are my other two. Loki just because we've done a great job with his character development and keeping his essence in tact even though we've made him a protagnist. Clint is because of his interactions with everyone (so much sass! and flawed). 
> 
> 2) What's been your favorite plot or scene in the fiction so far? Why? What would you like to see more or less of in the story?  
> Deprough: The Bucky/Verun mindlink scene (Chapter 76: Together), with the scene between Tony & Loki in Chapter 78: Long Overdue as a very close second.
> 
> Malachite: I've got to ditto Deprough here, those are my two favorite scenes as well, though I'd probably flip the order.
> 
> RogueWarrior: Tony & Emma's sex scene, because HOT, and then the combat scene where Emma was injured because that's where I learned to love writing combat scenes. 
> 
> 3) This isn't strictly a romance fic, but it obviously has romance in it. Who is your favorite pairing in the MCU and why?  
> Deprough: Obviously Bucky and Verun. They're very sweet and fun together. 
> 
> Malachite: Another obvious here, I love pairings with Loki!
> 
> RogueWarrior: In the MCU, my favorite pairing is Stever Rogers and Peggy Carter. I love the 1940's era; also that Peggy is a strong, independent woman in an era that looked down on that and yet Steve admired her for it.
> 
> 4) If you could make yourself into an Avenger, what powers would you have?  
> Deprough: My usual 'superpower' answer is to be an omniglot (speak/understand/read/write all languages), but that would make for a pretty boring Avenger, so maybe just the standard psychic powers?
> 
> Malachite: For a combat-oriented superhero, I'd go for someone with control of biology - adaptation, healing, creating new and interesting biostuffs. I love the idea of symbiotic creatures that would provide otherwise normal people with "super powers". :D
> 
> RogueWarrior: Invisibility and super reflexes, maybe shapeshifting. 
> 
> Now for links!  
> For some sci-fi fun brought to you by both Malachite and Deprough, check out serial web novel, [Thirteen](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/about/)! We're over twenty chapters in, it updates twice a week on Mondays and Fridays, and is free to read!
> 
> For more romance, check out Deprough's Accords short stories on Amazon: There's [Deep Blue](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017IZS18W?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_2&sr=8-2) and [The Yule Miracle](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017OM7RZW?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1) so far!
> 
> For some vampire sci-fi fun check out Deprough's [City of Promise](http://smile.amazon.com/City-Promise-Dawn-Prough-ebook/dp/B008X7JEAE/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1450101256&sr=1-3), also on Amazon!
> 
> If you like what you see on Amazon, on [Fifth Column Publishing](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/), and here on Archive of Our Own, please consider contributing to our [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=568042&ty=h) so we can continue to write for you! Thanks!


	85. Concerned

Her green eyes gave nothing away, but Loki still had the feeling that Natasha was laughing at him. “You want to play with James,” she said, her tone empty of any inflection.

“I have heard that parents require time away from their spawn,” Loki told her, keeping his thoughts away from the real reason he had come to see the baby. “Also, I thought to check up on the toys and be sure that they are still functional.”

“Trust me, I would have brought them to you if they’d failed or died, or whatever these things do.” She stepped back and opened the door to admit him. “James would have made my life hell if I hadn’t.”

Loki grinned proudly. “Rather attached is he?”

“Completely. If you have more of those, you’d probably make his day,” she added, walking back to the nursery.

“I’ll have to make more.” On the way, they passed a framed picture of the family. Steve and Natasha held a tiny blue bundle in the sun, both of them glowing with joy. Loki met Steve’s blue eyes. _I’m trying,_ he told the other man silently. _Though I admit that my visit today is selfish._

The boy’s room was brightly colored and lit with sun lamps. Loki had no doubt it was monitored closely at all times, especially in this moment. James sat in the middle of a ring of toys, but it was clear that the stars of the show were Loki’s gifts. The wolf was doing tumbling rolls across the floor while the snake slithered in and out of wooden blocks. The crow was dancing for him, and the boy scarce knew where to look next as the three animals competed for his attention.

“Hello, James,” Loki said as he moved into the room and sat down. The child stared at him with the Captain’s eyes, then crawled over to inspect him closely. There was none of the timidness that Loki would expect of a baby this age, but he wasn’t surprised given the boy’s parentage. “I’m Loki.”

James flashed a grin, showing off the first tiny white tooth. He reached out and grabbed a block, then passed it to the jotun. “What do you want me to do with this?” Loki asked, but James had caught sight of his wolf again and crawled after it.

The next hour was very anti-climatic. James largely ignored him, and the jotun was left to merely watch the boy. It did put his mind at ease; he’d heard that babies were the progenitors of a literally endless string of chores, but he was close to being bored.

Natasha entered the room and watched for a second and this time Loki could tell she was amused. “You can engage with him,” she said, picking up the baby when he half-toddled, half-crawled over to her. “He may bite. He’s just getting to that stage.”

“He won’t hurt me,” Loki promised, watching as she played peek a boo. It was strangely charming, watching the woman with the “ledger dripping with red” playing with her son.

After she left again, he scooted closer to the kid. James watched him without any of the nervousness that children usually showed to strangers. “Hello,” he said, holding out his hand to the raven. As its creator, it was open to his commands as well, and fluttered to his fingers. It cawed once, flapping its wings to stabilize its perch.

James mimicked him and the raven abandoned his hand for the boy’s. Grinning, he caught the bird with his other hand and stuck its head in his mouth. The toy tolerated the toothless mauling for a moment, then began to protest.

“James, what are you doing?” Loki leaned forward, alarmed. The toy was acting like it was being damaged, but that wasn’t possible. The enchantments on the toys would prevent them from being hurt; their reactions to “pain” were meant for when kids were older and capable of both understanding hurting others and wielding greater power. At this age, a human baby shouldn’t be able to do more than soak the toy in saliva.

The raven cawed harder, fighting to get free. Loki took James’s hand in his own and pulled to extract the toy.

He couldn’t move the child’s arm. James grinned at him and bit down harder, delighted by the noises his toy was making. Loki tried to pry those tiny fingers open but James’s grip was rock-hard. It reminded him of when Thor would wrestle with him, their small bodies already mismatched in power. Fighting back the old feelings of helpless fury, Loki changed tactics, worming his fingers into James’s ribs, seeking sensitive spots.

The child released his victim with a shriek of ticklish glee, tumbling backwards as the raven fluttered to the floor. It’s sad attempts to fly left it shuddering on the soft carpet. Before James could react, Loki scooped up the bird and deftly deactivated it before pocketing it.

James turned and went for the snake, who trustingly watched the boy approach. Loki got there first, rescuing that toy before the child could damage it, too. Denied his prize, James started to wail. Loki grabbed the wolf, too, and turned off it and the snake before hiding them in another pocket. With his three favorite toys missing, James’s wails became furious screams.

Natasha came in a moment later, smiling. “Sounds like you need help,” she remarked, picking up the baby. Loki winced, half-expecting that the boy would hurt her in his tantrum. Instead, James sobbed into her neck as she made soothing noises.

“I deactivated his toys. He damaged the raven,” Loki told her, expecting to see somber understanding in her gaze.

“That’s too bad,” she said, swaying back and forth to rock the baby. “Can you fix it?”

“Of course, but that’s not the issue.” Loki paused a second to find the right words to explain. “These toys are enchanted to withstand rough play from Aesir children. The only baby I’ve known to damage one at this age without a weapon or tool is Thor.”

Natasha frowned thoughtfully. “The raven has to be defective,” she said, rubbing James’s back as he settled into hiccups.

“I’ll check that,” the jotun told her, “but I want you to be cautious as well. If he’s that strong, he could accidently hurt you.”

She stared at him for a moment before smiling. “You’re actually concerned about me.”

He felt his face redden as his shoulders tightened. “I’ll determine if the toy was compromised and fix it. I’ll be in touch.” He left, but not before he caught her bemused laugh.

Thor was in his house, practicing his forms in his workout room when Loki entered. “Brother, you did not knock!” Thor protested, lowering his practice hammer. “I am a married man now!”

Loki snorted. “Please. Jane’s at work and I am no stranger to your masturbating.”

Thor reddened. “It was one time!” he protested before Loki dismissed the conversation with a wave.

“James has strength beyond a normal mortal child’s,” Loki said, drawing out the mauled toy. The wings were folded in on themselves, crushed by the boy’s grip, and there were teeth marks in its head. It would be easy enough to repair it with magic, but it would take some time to research more powerful enhancements to prevent future damage. _Perhaps Verun has a suggestion._

Thor sucked in a breath as he carefully took the bird from Loki. “This is strength beyond even a normal Aesir child, brother.”

“Yes, I know that.” Loki couldn’t keep the snap out of his tone. “I am able to grasp a basic concept. My question for you is how do we protect the mortals from James?”

Thor rubbed a hand over his beard, his fingers unconsciously stroking the bird’s head. Thor had possessed similar toys as a child, and like most Aesir, he was still fond of them. “An enchantment to increase his tender’s strength,” he stated firmly. “Can you do that?”

Loki sighed. “Maybe. It is not magic I’m familiar with. I’ll speak with Verun, as well. Perhaps the Vanir have something they’ve used in the past.”

“It is our only option.” Thor looked grim as he twirled his practice hammer. “The option of separating James from his mortal family is not one I want to exercise.”

“Nor I,” Loki agreed, missing the assessing look his brother gave him.

“The larger question is why is he so strong?” Thor asked. “I expected him to be stronger than mortals, but this far surpasses Steve’s strength.”

Loki pondered that for a moment and only had one disturbing answer. “I don’t know. But I will find out.” It was his duty to protect that family now, and he would not fail them.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“God, this is more exhausting than being out on the field,” Clint commented, leaning back in his chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to massage away the headache he felt approaching.

“That’s what they don’t tell you about in the SHIELD recruitment pitch,” Tasha responded wryly. “If the bullets don’t get you young, the eye strain will.”

“Good thing. They have a recruitment problem as it is.” He sat the pile of papers he’d been flipping through down on the table. Then he stood up and walked over to where she was sitting, glancing down at her computer screen, which was filled with columns of dates, numbers, and amounts.

“You getting any further than I am?”

“Not significantly. Right now I’m going through Hammer’s financials. I’m just checking to make sure everything lines up, and if there’s anywhere we might… wait a sec,” She trailed off and leaned forward, her eyes skimming across something that had caught her attention.

“You find something?” He leaned in a bit closer, trying to make pick out what might have caught her attention in the seemingly endless stream of numeric data.

“Yeah, maybe. I’ve got some large transfers here from multiple corporate subsidiaries, all happening within a short period of time. Not long after that, it looks like he starts moving that money around, but I think it might all be going to the same place.”

“Can JARVIS help you break it all down and see where it winds up?” Clint asked, watching her transfer data from one screen over to another.

“He could, but I thought it best to keep all this information separate from Tony’s systems. I know they’re nailed down pretty tight, but since Hammer’s still working hard to chip away at Stark Enterprises and all of Tony’s conglomerates I thought it best to keep it all completely offline,” she responded distractedly, “JARVIS included.”

“Okay then.” He grabbed the paperwork he was flipping through, and dropped it all back in the box it had come from. “Sounds like you need some help. Start printing some of those out, would you? I work faster that way.”

“No problem, Old-School,” she replied, an amused smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “Would you like an electric typewriter to take notes with, too?”

“What the hell,” Clint countered jokingly. “If you’ve got one lying around.”

Several hours later he leaned back in his chair, spinning his pencil between his fingertips with a smooth dexterity that reminded Natasha why he was known as Hawkeye. “So you think this’ll work?”

“I think it’s the best shot we’ve got,” she replied candidly, flipping through the satellite images on the projected screen in front of them.

“We’d better talk to her first, make sure she’s okay with it.” Clint suggested, flipping the pencil end over end to impale in the dartboard on the wall. “This isn’t the kind of thing you dump on someone in a briefing.”

“That’s the easy part,” the red-headed assassin responded. “It’s a solid plan, she’ll be on board. Let’s get her down here to confirm, then we’ll gather the others.”

“Yeah, true.” Clint rose and added, “And you know she’s not going to be the one with a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's questions:
> 
> 1) What's your favorite AU trope or conceit?
> 
> 2) If you were a super, would you be a villain or a hero? How do you think others would see you?
> 
>  
> 
> Now for links!  
> For some sci-fi fun brought to you by both Malachite and Deprough, check out serial web novel, [Thirteen](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/about/)! We're over forty chapters in, it updates twice a week on Mondays and Fridays, and is free to read!
> 
> For more romance, check out Deprough's Accords short stories on Amazon: There's [Deep Blue](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017IZS18W?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_2&sr=8-2) and [The Yule Miracle](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017OM7RZW?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1) so far!
> 
> For some vampire sci-fi fun check out Deprough's [City of Promise](http://smile.amazon.com/City-Promise-Dawn-Prough-ebook/dp/B008X7JEAE/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1450101256&sr=1-3), also on Amazon!
> 
> If you like what you see on Amazon, on [Fifth Column Publishing](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/), and here on Archive of Our Own, please consider contributing to our [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=568042&ty=h) so we can continue to write for you! Thanks!


	86. The Hammer Plan

Once again, the conference room was filled to the brim with the various members of both the Avengers and the Guardians, as well as Phil and Rhodey. Clint and Natasha were standing at the head of the table this time, speaking quietly as they waited for everyone to settle down and get comfortable. Finally, Rocket let out a shrill whistle to get everyone’s attention. “Hey, we down here for social hour or what?”

Several members of both teams gave the raccoon an exasperated glance, but Thor chimed in, his expression serious. “I must admit I am as anxious to hear what we have been called down for as well. Hawkeye, Black Widow - I assume you have some new development for us?”

“We have more than that,” Natasha replied. “We’ve been sorting through the data the Colonel brought us, and we have a plan for bringing down Justin Hammer once and for all. One that will deliver him perfectly into the hands of the U.S. Government.”

“Good,” Rhodey replied, leaning forward in his chair. “I’m all ears. Please continue.”

She nodded, and picked up a stack of file folders sitting in front of her. As she began to walk around and hand them to everyone, Clint began to speak. 

“So, we’ve been going over Hammer’s financials with a fine tooth comb. Tasha spotted some inconsistencies, and after following the money we’ve discovered that he’s been made several large payoffs to the Myanmar government over the last eighteen months.”

“Where is this Myanmar?” Loki inquired, opening his folder. “Your planet is so divided, it’s hard to keep track sometimes.”

“Myanmar is a country that was known as Burma until about twenty-five years or so ago. It used to be under British control, went through a period of independent republic rule, then fell under military rule up until a few years ago, when the civil war started. ” He tapped a couple buttons on the laptop that was set up in front of them, and a map of southeast Asia popped up on the whiteboard. “It’s in Asia, nestled mostly between China, India, and Thailand. The northern tip of Myanmar touches Tibet, where the HYDRA base we found Zoe at was located. For those of you who aren’t as familiar with Earth or it’s caught up on current events, Tibet also used to be an it’s own country but now it’s an autonomous region that’s been under official control of the Chinese government since their occupation in 1959.”

“In other words,” the Black Widow chimed in, “it’s a part of the planet that’s seen a lot of conflict in recent decades. That often means it’s rife with political corruption and makes for a good place to set up your secret production facility.” 

“You’re saying that Hammer’s got an operation outside of the United States?” Rhodey’s focus shifted from the file he’d been perusing to the two ex-SHIELD agents. “That definitely violates his contractual agreement with the D.O.D. - the Department of Defense, that is,” he elaborated for the non-natives.

“I assume he’s manufacturing suits at this facility?” Tony interjected.

“Precisely. In fact, he’s taken over a small island off the western coast of the Tanintharyi region of southern Myanmar, where he has both a production plant and - more importantly - a storage facility.” As Natasha continued, she pulled a picture out of her version of the file and stuck it up to the whiteboard with a magnet. “JARVIS was able to send in a drone and get some interior shots of the storage depot. As you can see, there appear to be hundreds of suits, both the original metal and the newer plastic. Non-commissioned, non-sanctioned suits that he isn’t allowed to produce, according to his government contracts.”

“So what’s the plan?” Bucky frowned thoughtfully. “I mean, we can go in and shut down the operation, but the U.S. doesn’t have jurisdiction in Burma - I mean, Myanmar.”

“No, and they wouldn’t send us right now even if they did, given Tony and Emma’s legal status.” Natasha responded. “It wouldn’t hold up in court. We still have to get ahold of Hammer.”

“Fortunately,” Clint interjected, “we were able to find out that he’s been spending almost all his time at the facility in the last several weeks since the random attacks started. We also know they’ve been hitting us simultaneously, never on U.S. soil and always spread out from each other. What we’re going to do is turn this strategy against them.”

“The plan is to fool them into thinking we’ve sent out almost all our manpower,” Natasha explained, “and then send someone in as bait. It’ll look like we found out about the place and that someone took the opportunity, possibly as a rogue action, to strike out against him and destroy his army of suits. We’re fairly confident that they’re sending out most of their available soldiers during the strikes against us. Hammer will have to take to the skies in a suit of his own, and when he does we’ll actually have a small strike force of people that he isn’t expecting waiting for him.”

Tony listened intently as she described the plan, nodding on occasion.  _ Perfect, _ he thought.  _ I can draw that asshole out and finish this. _

“This sounds like a plan with great potential,” Thor replied approvingly. “However, if the rest of us are engaged in battle who shall the strike force be composed of?”

“Well, we have a couple options for that,” Clint explained, “and I’d prefer all of them if possible. It might be overkill, but we don’t know how much security he does keep around and we’re only going to have one shot at this. First of all, Rhodey will be there in order to observe the whole thing and to officially apprehend Hammer. We need to keep all this above board, and he hasn’t been seen out in the War Machine suit with us at any point in the last several years, so he won’t be expected. We also thought you might be able to get ahold of the Warriors Three and see if they’re willing to assist us. Lastly, as a red herring, Stark can deploy his existing suit, alongside one of the other groups, with JARVIS at the helm. That way it’ll look like he’s already occupied, and his presence can also be a surprise.” The blond-haired archer glanced over at Tony. “You’ve been working on a new suit with Rocket’s help, correct? How soon can it be operational?”

Tony shrugged. “Get me an endless fountain of Red Bull and it’ll be a few hours, tops.”

Clint and Natasha exchanged a brief, surprised glance but said nothing. Instead it was Emma, who had stayed silent this entire time, that finally spoke up.

“Great,” the red-headed astronaut confirmed briskly. “Then it’s settled. Tony and Rocket, your highest priority is the suit. Thor, if you can get ahold of your Asgardian comrades and see if they can be on standby, that’d be perfect. The next time Gerig strikes the rest of you will head out as normal, with JARVIS operating the Mark XLV. Tony, Colonel Rhodes and the Asgardian warriors - assuming they’re joining us - will accompany me to Myanmar, but will not make their presence known until I’ve drawn Hammer out of hiding. Any questions?”

“Uh, yeah, I have one. What the actual fuck?” He leaned forward, glaring at Natasha and Clint; this smelled like their covert spy bullshit. “That’s a terrible idea. We can do a remote strike on the suits before we go in. There’s no need to risk Emma in a stupid plan. And if we’re stuck on bait, he’d come after me, too.”

Rocket put his head in his hands, and only the sharpest ears in the room heard him mutter, “Stupid humie pheromones.”

“Tony, it has to be me,” Emma replied patiently. When Clint and Natasha had called her down to discuss the plan, they’d all anticipated pushback from Tony and had come prepared. “You’re too much of a threat, and you’re not really what he wants. He wants the nanites, and for that he needs me. He might consider risking exposure if you show, but honestly, I doubt it. Justin Hammer is a damned coward, and he knows how well you handle combat. He’d be more likely to call back one of the other groups than to stick his own neck out on the line. But in a plastic suit, if it’s just me? He’ll think he’s hit the jackpot.”

Tony snorted. “I think you underestimate how much he hates me. If he had a shot to take me out, especially if I’m targeting his suits, he’d take it.”

“Why, Tony? Why would he do that?” Emma crossed her arms, her lips pressing together briefly in irritation. “The last time we faced Hammer in a combat situation he hung back the whole time, and flew off the second he realized his backup was failing. You think he’s gonna pull up his big boy panties and square off against you, one-on-one? You’re wrong. And even if you're not, that's not a chance we can afford to take. The nanites are the prize, I have the nanites, and I'm virtually useless against the plastic suits. I'm the perfect bait. This  _ has  _ to work, we’re not likely to get another shot at it.”

“You underestimate the power of testosterone poisoning,” he growled. 

“You’re providing a pretty good example of it,” Natasha commented.

Tony pointed at the former assassin without looking at her. “You, stay out of it. Also, Hammer might be a coward but he has a massive ego.”

“Another thing you could give lessons on,” Black Widow interrupted again.

“Not talking to you.” Tony kept his eyes on Emma; she was the one he had to convince.

“That’s not a bet I’m willing to take,” Emma responded sharply, her gaze locked with his. If their battle of wills was making anyone else in the room uncomfortable, she wasn’t paying enough attention to care. “The plan is solid, and you know it. You were all about it until you found out I was the bait. I can handle this, Tony, and you should be the first to back me up on that. You were the one who convinced me I had what it took to be an Avenger in the first place, remember?”

“Avengers don’t use one another as  _ bait _ ,” he snapped. 

“For god’s sake, you’ll be there, Tony,” Clint growled. 

The billionaire growled. “Stay out of it!” 

“No! I’m not gonna.” The archer rose and planted his hands on the table. “I’m going to call it as I see it. The problem here isn’t that we’re sending in bait, or that the bait is an Avenger; it’s that the bait is Emma. She’s not Pepper!”

“I am not taking relationship advice from a man who’s been pining for his best friend for years, even after she married someone else!” Tony glared at Clint, and everyone tensed. 

“Stop it. Right now, both of you.” Emma’s face burned with embarrassment, and her voice cut through the silence of the room like a knife. A quick glance at Natasha’s expressionless mask made her envy the former assassin’s poker face, but she pressed on adamantly despite her embarrassment.

“Tony, listen to me.” She locked gazes with him again, and he could see the conflicting emotions written across her face. Her jaw was set and her lips were pressed together in a determined line, even though the blush still stained her cheeks a dusky pink. Her eyes weren’t angry, however, they were swimming with a different emotion that was harder to identify. “I need you to trust me on this. You know me, I don't take stupid chances. But if something is important enough, I will take the necessary risks. It's why I agreed to become an Avenger, it's what made me choose to go out despite my injury. Hell, it’s what got me on the Maria in the first place. It’s just who I am. And you're going to be there, Tony. I know you've got me covered. I trust you. I need you to trust me.”

“I’ll go with her, Tony,” Loki offered suddenly. Every person in the room turned to him in surprise, until that moment they had all been fixated on the battle of wills happening in front of them. Emma looked especially startled, since she still hadn’t gotten up the guts to apologize to the Asgardian prince for socking him in the jaw. “This man - Justin Hammer - I’ve known others like him. He’s the type to underestimate my abilities as worthless tricks, to dismiss me as a real threat despite my heritage. With my illusions, you can be there as well.” He glanced at Emma. “If that is acceptable.”

“I think so,” she replied after a moment’s consideration. There was precedent for Loki’s absence, after all; a few of the recent attacks had happened while he was away on Asgard with Zoe. “Yes, I think that would work great. Thank you, Loki,” she said simply, but with a touch of sincere warmth.

Tony thought about arguing; if Loki was there, then he could make Tony look like Emma. He really wanted to speak up, because the ball of terror in his gut was screaming at him. He knew the look on her face though; she was dead set on this. If he agreed, at least he could be there if things went south. “Fine.” He gave Loki a quick look of gratitude. “That’s fine.”

Loki gave Tony a slight nod in return, and at the other end of the table Emma shot Clint and Natasha a small, reassuring smile. They both nodded at her, but neither looked willing to comment at the moment. It was Thor who spoke up first, from the middle of the table. 

“Excellent solution, brother.” The blond prince commented gratefully as he stood. The tension in the room had been quite thick, and he was relieved that his brother’s quick mind had come up with a solution Tony had been willing to accept. “We have a plan, then. Let us prepare for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's questions: (reposted from last week)
> 
> 1) What's your favorite AU trope or conceit?
> 
> 2) If you were a super, would you be a villain or a hero? How do you think others would see you?
> 
>  
> 
> Now for links!  
> For some sci-fi fun brought to you by both Malachite and Deprough, check out serial web novel, [Thirteen](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/about/)! We're over forty chapters in, it updates twice a week on Mondays and Fridays, and is free to read!
> 
> For more romance, check out Deprough's Accords short stories on Amazon: There's [Deep Blue](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017IZS18W?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_2&sr=8-2) and [The Yule Miracle](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017OM7RZW?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1) so far!
> 
> For some vampire sci-fi fun check out Deprough's [City of Promise](http://smile.amazon.com/City-Promise-Dawn-Prough-ebook/dp/B008X7JEAE/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1450101256&sr=1-3), also on Amazon!
> 
> If you like what you see on Amazon, on [Fifth Column Publishing](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/), and here on Archive of Our Own, please consider contributing to our [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=568042&ty=h) so we can continue to write for you! Thanks!


	87. Space Aliens of the 1950's

Zoe stood on the balcony of her bedroom, ignoring the sweeping vista of Asgard laid out below her, and tapped her forehead on the column. “Oh. . . my. . . god. . . I am so bored! Is this Asgard’s version of torture? Bore the mortal to death?”

She knew she was being petulant, but dammit, she’d been on Asgard for _weeks_ now and they wouldn’t let her _do_ anything. She couldn’t leave her rooms without an escort (nice for not getting lost, annoying to feel like she had to have a nanny following her around), she couldn’t spar with the warriors to keep in shape (okay, so they _could_ punch through her, but seriously? did they not have as much self control as Loki or Verun or Thor?), she couldn’t use the library (like hell she was going to ask one of the snits looking down their noses at her to teach her how to read Asgardian), and she’d been through every garden path and “new to Asgard” tour they had by now. They didn’t even have tv to sit and get fat watching. She groaned and beat her head on the column a little harder. _I’m going to kill someone if this is the next two years for me._

“You look put out.” A familiar voice behind her interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to see her blond nanny, Fandral. “Is there anything you need, Madame?”

“Something to _do_ ,” she managed not to snap but her irritation was clear in her voice. “I’m not some little ornamental songbird, content to sit all day long in a cage. I’m about to go full on mental on this place if I can’t find something interesting or useful to do.”

“Define interesting,” he said with a charming smile, coming a bit closer to her.

She threw up her hands and paced quickly back and forth along the polished floor. “You know, _interesting!_ Not boring. Not ‘no you can’t do that, you’re pregnant’, not ‘here, go embroider something’ or whatever the hell it is pregnant women on Asgard are expected to do. Something outside the palace! That involves moving! And is entertaining!”

“I could take you out in a boat.” A hint of impishness entered his smile. “It would worry Hogun, so I think it would be fun.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned at the blond Aesir. “Does anything _not_ worry him? I mean, did he have surgery so it’s physically impossible for him to smile now or something?” She shook her head and mused, “Maybe I need to introduce the joy buzzer to Asgard.” She turned and stepped out the edge of the balcony, giving the waters of Asgard a speculative look. “A boat ride, hmn? That could be nice, even just to get out of the palace. Maybe take some food, make a picnic lunch out it?”

He raised a finger and walked back toward one of the couches in her room. Leaning down, he pulled a woven cloth and gold wire basket into view. “One step ahead of you, Madame. If you would follow me?”

He led her through parts of the palace she’d been through before, then to a part she hadn’t. A garden stretched into a dock, where long, wide rowboats waited. Fandral straddled the boat and dock, using his strength to hold it steady for her, then offered her a hand.

She took it and settled herself down easily in the rocking boat. Just the feel of truly fresh air and light breeze on her skin was already doing quite a bit to restore her good mood. “So, you getting tired of being cooped up on babysitting duty, too?” she asked him. “Volstagg seems happy as long as there’s a buffet table in reach and I’m pretty sure Hogun volunteered for night duty because he’s a sourpuss and doesn’t take a _harmless_ practical joke well.”

“To be honest, I find most of my duties boring now,” he confessed, shoving the boat away from the dock with a practiced kick. “I used to go on grand adventures with Thor, but now I find that I’m left doing nothing, waiting for a special mission from King Odin. I’m grateful he doesn’t use me as a simple guard, but it often leaves me bored.” He winked at her. “I understand your feelings completely, save that I can do things like this on my own.”

He twisted the handle of the rudder, and with a hum, the boat lifted out of the water. “There are dangers out here, Madame,” he promised as he turned their nose toward the wilderness around the palace. “How much are you seeking?”

She considered, honestly considered, which he wasn’t used to with the women he’d usually take out. “Nothing truly life-threatening,” she said after a moment, shrugging. “Perhaps for today just somewhere that’s interesting to explore?” She tilted her head towards the sunlight, her eyes closed, and smiled. “What’s your favorite place to just get away from everything?”

“I have a quiet cove I go to,” he said softly, “though I usually only take close friends there.” He blinked his sky-blue eyes at her. “Would you like to see it?”

She nodded, her own rainbow irises sparkling from the reflection of the water. “If you wouldn’t mind showing me, that would be lovely.”

He smiled warmly at her and turned the angle of the boat, taking a new course. They flew for thirty minutes, just high enough that the spray from the boat’s repulsors didn’t soak them, but low enough to be girded by rainbows. He flew to a small island, crossed around to the far side, and landed in the water in front of a small inlet. It was surrounded by trees, and someone had left an open-sided tent erected just above the golden beach. Their momentum carried them into the shaded area and pushed their boat up onto the sand. Fandral leapt out and dragged it up securely to ground it. He helped her over the gunwale and retrieved the basket.

She laughed in delight as she walked along the sandy beach, basking in the warmth, the smell of ocean and island, and the freedom of being away from the oppressive impressiveness the royal palace of Asgard. “Okay, I won’t ask about the water because people just keep giving me a look when I do, but what about the sun? Is it small and orbiting Asgard? Is like a normal planet and Asgard rotates? Or is just ‘magic light’ like the water is ‘magic water’?”

Fandral laughed. “I honestly have no idea. Those are questions for Odin. I’m afraid I’m just a simple warrior.”

Zoe shook her head in wonder. “I just don’t get that. I mean, you’re what? Fifty times my age? With that much time, I just figured the question would have come up and you’d, I dunno, go to the Asgard public library and look it up or something. Or school? Wouldn’t they teach you that in school?” Zoe blinked and flushed when she realized she was making some rather large assumptions about this foreign land. “Or do they not have a required general education in Asgard?”

“I didn’t learn a general education, whatever that is.” He started to unload the basket on a spread blanket as he talked. “I learned to fight. I had adventures that honed my skills. I learned poetry and song and stories. As for why: the wide universe has too much in it to see. I don’t have time to question it.”

She chuckled and took up a spot next to him on the blanket, helping him set out the food. “Maybe it’s a human/Aesir difference, or just a people difference. I couldn’t imagine seeing everything I’ve heard Thor or Loki or Gamora or any of the others talk about and not ask ‘how’ and ‘why’. Seeing is great, but understanding. . .” her voice trailed off, her expression softening into a slow joy, “...it’s like when you finally really _get_ a piece you’ve been playing for a while and suddenly you’re not just proficient at - it’s not just notes strung together - suddenly it’s _alive_. It’s a story and feeling and a moment all wrapped up in movement and meter and makes sense in a way you can’t put in words. It’s...communion with the universe. That’s what I want when I go exploring.”

“I find that in the dance of battle, and the sweetness of victory,” he said, smiling softly. Their food set out, he handed her a plate before picking out some of the finger foods for his plate. He ate a red berry, quietly sucking its juices off his fingers. “Or in finding something that no one else has seen before. Or even in the warmth after a moment of love.”

“Mmm,” she agreed, popping a few strange-looking berries in her mouth and marvelling at the sweet-spicy taste. “Yeah, that’s nice too,” she agreed, then shot him a speculative look. “Wait, I thought you were the Asgardian playboy? I haven’t heard of you being ostracized for sleeping around and you seem liked even if you don’t marry. Meanwhile, everyone gives me the stink eye for not being married to Loki. Among a whole list of other things,” she admitted after a moment.

“Well,” he told her with a boyish grin. “I find the limits of marriage to be outside of my ability to tolerate. I understand that another being might feel as I do.”

She laughed, the most genuine laugh he’d heard from her since she’d come to Asgard. “Of course you do. Well, nice to know that not _all_ Aesir are tradition-bound drones or something. I was starting to feel like I’d stepped into ‘Space Aliens of the 1950’s’ or something.” At his blank look she just shook her head, “A time in my country when people were particularly uptight about sex, marriage, and women having any say in their lives if it meant they stepped outside of the ‘grateful wife and dutiful mother’ mold. I mean, Thor doesn’t seem to have any issue with Jane having a job and a brain and things to do outside of fawning over him, but man does he have a massive stick up his ass about Loki and I.”

“I’m sure that Prince Thor’s stick up his backside meant that he and Jane were not intimate before the wedding.” He took a bite of some unidentified meat, sliced into strips. “It’s viewed as dishonoring you.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s stupid. If a consenting act between two people is dishonoring, then it dishonors both of them. Otherwise it’s not the act that’s the problems, it’s everything _everyone else_ is projecting on to. Take premarital sex. Why is only the woman dishonored? Why is she somehow less after choosing to have sex, but the man is not? If Asgard is anything like chauvinists on Earth, then the man is actually _lauded_ for doing the same thing the woman is _derided_ for.” She snorted indelicately and popped few more berries in her mouth. “So fuck ‘em. Well, not literally. They’re obviously stupid and that’s _so_ unattractive. But shove off and stop trying to peep into my bedroom or my sex life. It’s none of their business.”

He smiled and she expected, just from that grin, for him to enthusiastically agree with her. Even knowing his reputation, she didn’t see the danger in that grin until he leaned forward and kissed her. It was a good kiss, and he got a couple of seconds to show her just _how_ good he could be when she froze in shock. His thumb rose and lightly stroked her cheek as he made nerves in her body tingle.

And then he was falling into shallow surf several yards from the idyllic picnic; Zoe was still standing her expression somewhere between confusion and fury. “What the hell, Fandral?!” she demanded loudly.

“I thought,” he said, sitting up quickly and looking down at the sand on his wet clothing, “that you were interested in a dalliance, given that you have one with Loki.” He looked irritated as he stood and slapped the sand loose.

Sand rolled away in small shifting dunes from the irate telekinetic. “I am _dating_ Loki!” she nearly screamed as she clenched her fists. “Just because we’re not _married_ doesn’t mean we’re not in a relationship. Jesus Christ, you people are either insufferably puritanical or you think that just because a woman _makes her own goddamn choice_ , she’s just waiting for the next penis to show up!”

She took a step towards him, her power billowing around her like a comforting cloak. “I _chose_ him. I still choose him, and if I’m not doing it in a way that you understand, let me be perfectly clear: I,” she took another step and the sand and water between them swirled and shot up, trapping him in the eye of storm with her, “love,” another step and the ground between them trembled, small cracks zigzagging in angry patterns along the now-bare ground, “Loki.” She closed the distance between them with several more earth-rattling steps. “And if you prats keep treating me like some secondhand whore and heir incubator, I will **level** this realm just to piss you off. _Got it?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Links!  
> For some sci-fi fun brought to you by both Malachite and Deprough, check out serial web novel, [Thirteen](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/about/)! We're over forty chapters in, it updates twice a week on Mondays and Fridays, and is free to read!
> 
> For more romance, check out Deprough's Accords short stories on Amazon: There's [Deep Blue](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017IZS18W?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_2&sr=8-2) and [The Yule Miracle](http://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B017OM7RZW?keywords=Dawn%20Prough&qid=1450101082&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1) so far!
> 
> For some vampire sci-fi fun check out Deprough's [City of Promise](http://smile.amazon.com/City-Promise-Dawn-Prough-ebook/dp/B008X7JEAE/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1450101256&sr=1-3), also on Amazon!
> 
> If you like what you see on Amazon, on [Fifth Column Publishing](http://fifthcolumnpublishing.com/), and here on Archive of Our Own, please consider contributing to our [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/user?u=568042&ty=h) so we can continue to write for you! Thanks!


	88. Committed

“All you had to do was say so.” Fandral spoke calmly, though his hands were near his sword. “Also, a simple ‘no thank you’ is very acceptable.”

“Really?” Zoe shot back venomously. “Because none of you have listened to anything else I’ve had to say since I got here. You sneer at me for being human. You whisper when you think I can’t hear, asking how I could love someone like Loki and wondering if I’m just some freak accident social climber. And now, despite the fact that I spend  _ every night _ in bed with Loki, here you are, thinking you can climb into my pants just because we’re alone somewhere.” 

She reached out with her power, her anger banishing the fear that had kept her clumsy with it for so long, and pulled his sword just free enough from its scabbard to smack the pommel hard into his hand. “Go for it,” she challenged recklessly. “I haven’t had a good fight since I got stuck here. And after all, I’m just some  _ mortal _ , surely no match for a high and might Aesir.”

“Would you have me be oathsworn?” he asked coolly. “My orders from my  _ king _ are to protect you, not fight you. He wouldn’t have cared had I bedded you, but hurting you is outside of his mercy.”

She rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “ _ Men! _ Did either you or  _ your king _ ever think to ask if  _ I _ was the one that didn’t want to get married?” Thankfully the storm of water and sand fell with her gesture; not so thankfully for Fandral, most of the muck and brine seemed to land directly on him. “Or did you just assume that because I wasn’t ranting and wailing and bemoaning my ‘dishonor’, that I obviously just fuck anyone that smiles at me?” 

She folded her arms, staring at the cliff face rocks sheltering the small cove. “And for the record, right now Fandral, no, I don’t give a shit about your honor or your oaths. I think about as highly of you at the moment as you clearly do of me.” She rubbed her hands over the damp fabric of her robe, trying to warm up a chill that had nothing to do with the water. Quietly she muttered, “I just want to go home.”

Fandral packed the basket once more, every movement stiff with formality and silence. Once they were both aboard, he steered the small skiff back towards the mainland and the palace. There was a buzz of activity on the water that had not been there when they left; several patrol boats full of gold-clad Aesir guards passed them a high speed. None bothered to stop the hero Fandral and the mortal woman he’d been commanded to guard. At the dock, he sent a page for Volstagg to meet them in Zoe’s quarters. The woman herself immediately disappeared into her bathing chamber as soon as they entered her rooms, never saying another word to the warrior.

Volstagg caught Fandral by the arm. “What did you do?” he asked, eying the normally meticulous warrior’s stained clothing. 

“Nothing untoward,” Fandral growled. “I misread the situation.” He pulled his arm free and left Volstagg staring after him. It took a few moments, but the giant’s gruff laughter chased him down the hallway before he completed his escape.

When Zoe finally emerged from her bathroom, there was a variety of sweets waiting for her. “I thought you could use some cheering up,” Volstagg told her with a grin. “And if you don’t want them, I’m sure they won’t go to waste.”

She wanted to hold on to her bad mood and be angry at all of Asgard, but the gruff older warrior was just so  _ earnest _ when it came to food. She gave him a tired smile and perused the long table of delicacies. “Thank you, Volstagg,” she said, and her stomach grumbled in agreement, reminding her that they hadn’t actually gotten to eat much of the picnic. She picked up a small pie-like pastry and then settled herself on the floor at the base of one of the ornate pillars in the room. “Sorry you got dragged into work early today.”

“Oh, I just turned it into an excuse for an early dinner, followed by a late snack,” he told her, selecting a flaky, glazed piece of twisted naughtiness for himself. He took the entire platter over and joined her on the floor. “Are you better now?”

She let out a bark of a laugh. “No. I feel stupid and mean. Not that Fandral didn’t deserve a smack upside the head, but I think. . .well, I  _ know _ , I took a lot out on him that wasn’t all his fault either.” She looked up at the ceiling and gave a half-shrug, “On an up note, my lessons with Verun have certainly paid off. I didn’t  _ kill _ him, though I probably gave him a heart attack or two.”

“I didn’t think you were a fighter. Or did you use words to attack his heart?” Volstagg asked his questions with such innocence she knew that he wasn’t joking with her.

“No, I,” she sighed and shrugged, sending the pastry floating up from her hand with a thought, “have other talents. I kinda made a mess out of what I now assume is his make-out beach.”

“Ah, the cove. I have heard of it.” Volstagg watched the pastry float as he finished his first and started a second. He didn’t seem terribly impressed by it but he lived on a flat earth where endless water poured off the edge of the world. 

_ Yeah, my tantrum probably didn’t go unnoticed. Great, I wonder what people will whisper about me now. _ “Yeah, he kissed me and I just snapped on him.” She sighed again, deeply this time. “I thought I was finally making a friend, y’know? You and Fandral are the only people on Asgard that don’t treat me like I’m radioactive.”

“Well, I don’t care who and what you are, only what you do,” he said simply. “Now, I wish you were a great cook, but one cannot have everything. As for Fandral -- he’ll recover his pride in time. If you wish a friend there, you might yet have one.”

She made a face. “I’m not sure if I do or not, and I think I’ll have my hands full keeping Loki from murderating him once he finds out what happened. And I’m not a  _ bad _ cook. I’m great at baking.” She gave Volstagg a crooked grin, “I just have no idea where the kitchens are.”

“Is that all! I shall show you. Perhaps you would care to pass some time there, if you are bored,” he said with a smile, already rising to his feet. “No doubt Cook will be displeased but that is no matter. And Loki -- I suggest you tell him the abridged truth. It might be better for all if he thinks it was a verbal offer rather than a more physical one.”

“You give Loki more credit in the overreaction department than I do,” she said sardonically, reclaiming her pastry as she stood as well. Spending the afternoon baking for someone addicted to food and generally good company sounded wonderful. Which Zoe reflected with black humor, was exactly why they were stopped not a dozen steps outside of her quarters by a royal messenger telling them that Odin bid them to meet him in the Healing Room. “Great,” she muttered, “now the principal is going to chew me out for my tantrum.”

“Then it’s better to get it done,” Volstagg said with a gentle smile, “so we can enjoy baking sooner afterwards.”

“It all comes back to food with you, doesn’t it?” Zoe asked with a little smile.

“It comes back to food with all living creatures. I’m just very honest about it,” he said, laughing. 

Eir waited with Odin in the Healing Room; the doctor looked concerned and the moment Zoe was in the room, she said, “Please lay on the table. I need to run tests.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” Odin asked her, his voice in ‘king-mode’.

Zoe frowned, but dutifully laid down on the table, resting her hands over her stomach. “Did Fandral come talk to you?” she asked, doing her best to keep from sounding defensive.

“He has,” Odin said as his eye rose to the results of the scan, floating above Zoe’s body. “I’d like your perspective.”

“He was an ass, I lost my temper, and a beach might have been temporarily relocated into a small hurricane for about five minutes.” She watched him watching the scan. “That’s all. I didn’t do anything that would have hurt the baby.”

“That’s not where we’re--” Eir cut her words off suddenly and glanced nervously at Odin. The king looked implacable, his full attention on the readouts. “We’d like to check anyway, and just make sure that you’re fine.”

Her eyes slid between the doctor and the king and eventually she arched a brow. “Ooookay. Someone care to bring the  _ patient _ up to speed? I figured I might get yelled at for messing up some real estate and freaking out Fandral, but that’s not worth a trip to the doctor. What’s going on?”

“Allow an old man to fear for his grandchild,” Odin said firmly. “The beach is unimportant and Fandral’s ego will recover in time. Zoe, please bear in mind that you  _ shouldn’t _ be pregnant. Nothing about this is standard, and so I would like to be sure you and the child are healthy after that.”

She sighed and tapped her fingers on her stomach; she glanced up a Odin speculatively, pondering.  _ What the hell, I might as well ask. It’s not like anyone’s opinion of me here can get any lower. _ “He said you wouldn’t care if I slept with him. Is that true?”

That brought the bright blue eye down to her, and he studied her for a long moment. “Does it matter what I think of you, Zoe of Midgard? You have never cared for my opinion before.”

“It’s easy to say you don’t care when it’s clear that everyone around you thinks you suck,” she answered. “I was just curious if he was simply spouting off what made him feel better, or if just because we’re not married makes everyone think I’m not committed to Loki anyways.” She hadn’t meant to say it quite that way, but it was true. She loved Loki and she was certain that no matter what happened between the two of them, she wouldn’t meet another person that could ever quite measure up to him.

“I am pleased that you were loyal to Loki,” he told her with a smile. “I would have been disappointed to learn otherwise. My son deserves fidelity and love, since no one else could give it to him. Go, I’m satisfied you and the babe are well.”

She considered pushing the matter, but the choice between a verbal sparring match with the King of Asgard or spending the afternoon baking with Volstagg was a pretty easy one. She hopped off the table and made a quick exit with the eldest of the Warriors Three. 

When she’d left, Odin looked at Eir. “You suspect, too,” he guessed.

“I do,” she said softly. “Why don’t you want to tell her?”

Odin sighed. “Because I want to be certain that Judgement is coming to Midgard before I tell them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late post this week! I've been under a haze of painkillers for my shoulder again and the whole week has been a bit of a blur. I hope you like the belated chapter!


	89. No Contest

The metal toolbox spun through the air and crashed into the wall; Loki clenched his hands to keep from sending anything else airborne. Shaking with anger, he turned away from the gun and the target. 

“Hey! I know it’s frustrating, humie,” Rocket snapped as he went to the box, picking it up and examining it closely. “If you wanna break shit, break your own shit!”

“Sorry,” Loki said without feeling, missing the speciest insult in his irritation. After a moment of impotently staring daggers at a wall, the jotun spun to turn his glare at the armor hanging on the rack. With a snarl, he went to the finely crafted Asgardian chestpiece and opened it, staring at the slab of beef on the inside. A massive hole passed through and through the meat, but there wasn’t a single mark on the armor. It was the same result as they’d had every single time they’d tested the gun from the Tibetan HYDRA base. “Fuck!” Even Zoe’s favorite expletive didn’t help his mood.

“Sounds like you guys could use a little help in here,” Emma proclaimed from the doorway. She was leaning against it and watching them with an expression of sympathetic understanding. 

“Sure, if you know a material stronger than Asgardian armor,” Rocket said wearily, lugging the heavy toolbox back to the table. “Failing that, could you stop Tantrum McStompypants from throwing shit around the room? Specifically, my shit?”

“You need to stop spending time with Darcy,” Loki growled. “It’s degrading your language skills.”

“Like I have a choice in the matter,” the raccoon grumbled.

“Tell me about it,” Emma chimed in as she stepped in and closed the door behind her. “He’s giving her a tour of the Maria right now, and I couldn’t take it any more. If I have to listen to any more witty yet flirtatious banter, I’m going to hit them both over the head with a socket wrench.” 

“Great, because we just ran out of materials to test,” Rocket said, waving at the glowering jotun stripping the chestpiece off the dummy. “So far, nothing stops this gun. Nothing. Wanna help?”

“If we let you help, are you going to hit me again?” Loki asked, his voice tart with wry humor. 

A slight flush of embarrassment spread across Emma’s cheeks, but she managed a self-depreciating smile. “No, I only hit people when they stand quietly and roll their eyes at my verbal abuse.”

“Odd, I thought you hit people who were replying to telepathic communications from their ‘baby-mama’.” He smirked at her, not intending to let her off the hook that easily.

She blinked, and then groaned softly, rubbing a hand across her face. “Well, it’s all a matter of interpretation, you see. When you’re in the middle of a psychotic tirade, surely everything must be about you. I do, however, apologize to people that I’ve treated poorly. I’m so sorry, Loki.”

“Thank you.” He inclined his head in a gesture full of royal dignity.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, making her way over to the testing area. “So, let’s start by going over what you’ve tried so far.”

She listened as Rocket and Loki went through the list of materials they’d tested so far, including but not limited to; various woods and other natural materials, plastics, vibranium, adamantium, and ending with the Asgardian armor. By the end of the list Emma was frowning, her brow furrowed in concentration. “And have you tried any types of energy field deflection?” she asked, chewing on her lower lip.

“Of course,” Loki replied irritably. “We’ve tried gravitational and energy-based defenses. Thirty-four different prototypes, as a matter of fact. Here,” he exclaimed, handing her a list. 

She skimmed through it briefly, then drew in a breath and let it out in a slow, measured huff. “Well, it seems a long shot, but you haven’t tried an electromagnetic field yet. I suppose I could help with that, if you’d like to give it a try,” she offered.

A half-hour and one more ruined slab of beef later, Emma sighed as she reluctantly added electromagnetics to the list of unsuccessful tests. “It’s just crazy,” she commented irritably. “I mean, this test result doesn’t necessarily surprise me. But you guys have access to, and have tested, some of the most advanced technology in the galaxy. I can’t believe that something created by a deranged squid-worshipping Neo-Nazi from Midgard is effective against all that!”

“It appears that it is,” Loki said angrily, rubbing his fingers over the enchantments etched into the front of the breastplate.  _ I can’t believe that nothing could stop this monstrous weapon. _ The runes made hills and valleys under his sensitive skin, and he automatically checked to be sure that the enchantments were properly laid.  _ These should protect the wearer-- _

His breath caught as he realized the missing piece.  _ The wearer _ .  _ They protect the  _ **_wearer_ ** _. With magic. _ Magic that wasn’t activated unless a living creature wore the armor.

“Don’t forget, they had access to one of those gem-things,” Rocket was saying, but to Loki, the raccoon’s voice was a distant sound. His thoughts were all on the chain of logic in his mind -- and it’s final outcome. He walked over to the gun, eyeing it, thinking through the steps once more.

“Still, it just seems so unlikely.” Emma replied thoughtfully. After a moment of long silence her thoughts returned to the room around her, and she turned and glanced at the silent half-Jotun prince. “Loki? What’s up?”

_ I could get Thor. _ Loki frowned pensively; what if he were wrong?  _ You cost the Captain his life. Don’t damage Thor’s either. _ That left one test subject. Before he lost his courage, he placed his hand over the muzzle of the weapon and pulled the trigger with the other. 

“Jesus Christ!” Rocket shouted, and Emma let out a horrified cry. When Loki held up his undamaged hand, however, their expressions slowly shifted from horrified to confused. 

“What the hell?” the space-faring raccoon exclaimed, his voice a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“The Asgardian armor didn’t negate the beam because the enchantment on it doesn’t operate unless there’s a living being inside,” Loki said, dread coiling in his gut. “Without a beating heart, it’s just a suit of armor. With it, the suit protects the  _ entire being _ , even the parts that the metal doesn’t cover. My own clothing has the same protections. Magical energy stops the ray’s effects.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” Emma asked. “What if it just works with advanced races?”

“It’s a simple test,” Loki said. “I can create a magical barrier.” Fifteen minutes later, the three of them were satisfied with the results: magic was enough to protect from the vile weapon.

Emma and Rocket were over the moon with excitement. Loki tried to match their enthusiasm, but the only thing he could think was,  _ I was magically armored that day. _

~  *  ~  *  ~

Zoe returned to her room from dinner, pausing when she saw Loki slumped in a chair facing the balcony, staring out into the Asgardian night. Hogun saw him as well, and bowed politely to her before quietly exiting the room. “I didn’t see you at dinner,” she said as she sat in his lap and gave him a kiss.

“I wasn’t hungry,” he said in a soft monotone, and his kiss was also lacking in energy. He didn’t look at her, his green eyes distant and troubled.

“Hey,” she said, tilting her head to try to catch his gaze; her brow creased in worry, “what’s wrong? Did something happen in Sanctuary? Or another Hammer raid?”

“No.” He sighed. “It was quiet. Rocket, Emma, and I figured out how to stop Strucker’s gun.” 

“That’s  _ good _ , right?” she asked, her inflection making her confusion clear. 

“Yes, it’s good,” he said sorrowfully. “Magic stops it -- simple, plain Asgardian protection spells.”

“So you can protect everyone, right?” She ran her fingers down the side of his face, frowning. “I know it might be annoying to have to do, but you seem . . . depressed. What’s going on?”

“I wear magic armament all the time.” He continued to stare out into the night, not acknowledging her gentle touch. “I have since long before I left Asgard for adventures.”

It took a moment for her to understand, walking back through all the implications of his words. “In the base,” she said softly. “The gun wouldn’t have killed you.”

“Yes.” The word drug itself out of the depths of his chest. “Steven Rogers gave his life for nothing.”

Zoe put her hands on either side of his face and firmly turned him to look at her. “No, he didn’t,” she said. “He gave his life to uphold his ideals and because in the heat of battle he did what he thought was necessary. That’s who he was and that’s the exact opposite of ‘nothing’.”

“Then he was a fool!” Loki picked her up and set her on her feet, turning to stalk the room. “He left his son and wife behind to protect an immortal who didn’t need his help!”

She debated going back and forth on the merits of Steve Roger’s ideals and why he did what he did, but she’s spent quite a while now debating with Asgardians. They were about as reasonable and likely to change their minds as most politicians. She shrugged and crossed her arms. “That’s not actually your problem, Loki. You’ve chosen to take up some rather sexist and archaic protection duty over a woman that is probably one of the few humans that  _ could _ take you on in a fight. She’s fine and she has friends to look out for her. Steve’s death isn’t a life sentence for you to toddle after his family. Does she  _ want _ you doing that?”

“Her prowess is inconsequential to the subject!” Loki snapped. “It is not a matter of protecting her and her child from anything that might harm them. It’s trying to fill a hole, one left because ‘Captain America’ thought I needed protection.” He snorted bitterly. “He’s obviously been talking to Thor.”

She turned to face him, hold her arms out and shrugging. “That’s not actually your responsibility, unless you choose it to be. He died. It sucked and yeah, he left a hole in people’s lives. Just because he happened to die while protecting you doesn’t make you responsible and you don’t have to spend the rest of your life living out  _ his _ .” She sighed and shook her head, “Or making yourself miserable because something extra shitty happened because no one knew what was going on. That gun could have just as easily been designed to pass right through your enchantments for all anyone knew in the moment. Mourn him, if that’s what you want to do, but for the love of sanity,  _ move on _ .”

“You don’t understand,” he said softly. “I blame your mortal upbringing. I understand that your culture used to value the bonds between one another, the bonds that make me indebted to the man who saved me, even if he didn’t realize how stupid that was. If I renege on those understandings, I have no value. To myself or any of Asgard.”

She buried her face in her hands and held back her scream of frustration by sheer force of will. She took a deep breath and spoke with forced calm. “Loki, Steve Rogers is dead and it’s that HYDRA’s man’s fault, not yours. He had that gun made and he used it. If you want to honor the memory of Captain America, go for it. He’d appreciate anyone willing to step up and help make the world, the whole universe, a better place, but stop  _ blaming _ yourself. It doesn’t help anything, just makes you super-emo, and between the two of us  _ I’m _ supposed to be the irrationally emotional one right now.”

“Blame myself?” He frowned at her. “I blame him for being an  _ idiot _ .”

She balled her hands into fists and rolled her eyes, “Then for the love of god can you blame him with less moody brooding?”

“I’m sorry, is my brooding interfering with your bitchiness?” he asked, but there was a playful twist to his lips now. “Am I impacting your moments of irrational emotion?”

“You have no idea,” she said dramatically, letting herself be pulled along into a better mood. “I mean, seriously, how can I compete with centuries of experience? Between that and pregnancy exhaustion, there’s no contest and it’s not fair.”

“If you’re tired now,” he murmured as he swept her off her feet and into his arms, “imagine how you’ll feel in your fifth trimester.” He grinned rakishly and murmured, “You should be in bed, conserving your strength.”

“ _ Fifth _ trimester?” she asked archly. “Is that some special Asgardian math?” She nuzzled against him, nipping at his neck and grinning. “And I’ve notice a distinct lack of  _ rest _ when we’re in bed together.” 

“I've heard that sexual pleasure brings many health benefits,” he whispered in her ear, his voice a warm growl of desire. “Think of it as beneficial to your wellbeing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Links!  
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	90. Hammer Time

Justin Hammer leaned back in his chair with a sigh of impatience. “Just how much longer are we going to keep up these stupid attacks?”

“We will continue to draw out the Avengers and their allies until it is time to move on to the next phase,” the annoyingly haughty HYDRA agent replied over the satellite video feed. 

“I’m  _ ready _ for the next phase!” Hammer slammed a hand down on the desk impatiently. “We’ve got plenty of suits ready to go, and more are coming off the line every day. You’re the one that’s holding this up!”

“Every combat gains us more information, more knowledge.” Gerig’s response was cool and collected, which only irritated the American defense contractor further. “We will be ready soon, and then you will have your moment.”

“It can’t come soon enough,” Hammer replied, appearing to calm down a bit. He opened the desk drawer and extracted a small cloth from it, then pulled off his glasses and cleaned them as he spoke. “Just remember not to damage the goods. If you spot Dr. Thompson and you can get ahold of her--”

“Yes, yes, I remember. You wish the Silver Star to be brought to you alive,” the handsome lieutenant replied. “For your experiments.” 

“She must be brought to me! I have to get my hands on those nanites, the Avengers have already figured out how to deal with my polymer Iron Suits.” The business mogul’s face twisted into an irritated scowl. “Silver Star. Who started calling her that, anyway?”

“I believe it was one of your American news stations,” Gerig responded smoothly.

“Sounds like some crap Stark came up with, and leaked to the media. Probably trying to get into her pants,” Hammer stated with disgust. “The fact that he hasn’t already unleashed some sort of new, advanced tech shows that he hasn’t gotten his hands on those nanites yet. My guess is, he’s not willing to do what it takes to extract them. I have no such compunctions, but--”

He was cut off by the distant sound of an explosion, followed by the blaring of alarms as notifications and video feeds popped up onto multiple windows of his holographic display. 

“What is going on there?” Gerig demanded with a scowl.

“I don’t know, some kind of intruder alert,” Hammer responded. His fingers flew across the holographic panel, skimming through the footage until he caught sight of something and zoomed in on it. Suddenly, a slow smirk spread across his lips, and his eyes narrowed behind his black-framed glasses. 

“Hammer, what is happening? Do you need backup? I will order my troops to withdraw,” the lieutenant offered.

“No, don’t. She’s here. I’ve got this.” Hammer replied. He sent a quick message to his head of security, then stood up and walked towards the corner of the room, where he kept his own customized plastic suit.

“She? You mean the Silver Star has arrived at the production plant?” The HYDRA soldier’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Stark is here in Slovakia with the Thunder God and the green-skinned alien woman, engaged in combat. The Winter Soldier fights with the Black Widow and the other off-worlders at the primary attack site in Paraguay. Is she alone?”

“No, she has Loki with her,” Justin replied as he stepped onto the dressing pad. Mechanical arms began to move, fitting the suit onto him like some sort of robotic manservant. “Neither of them are that powerful, now that Loki lacks the staff. I can handle them, just keep the rest of the Avengers and their new intergalactic peons occupied, will you?”

“I do not like this, Hammer. Do not engage with the Thompson woman or the Trickster God. He is more powerful than you give him credit for,” Gerig stated authoritatively. “Hold them off until I get there. I will leave the Scarlet Witch and her brother in charge of some of your remote suits to serve as a distraction, and I will return to Myanmar with the rest immediately.”

“Head back if you want, Lieutenant.” Hammer held up a hand as the last glove was clapped onto it, and the mask clipped down into place, covering his expression of grim eagerness. “But if you think I’m passing up a chance to grab those nanites while Tony Stark is busy on the other side of the planet, you’re crazy.” 

“You’re being impulsive and foolish.” the other man replied coldly. “Consider this your last warning. If this backfires, do not come crawling to me. Our alliance is more expedient than necessary at this point.”

“Consider me warned, Gerig,” the cocky businessman shot back, stepping back over to the computer. He leaned down to check on Emma and Loki’s location briefly, but Gerig paid no attention to the masked face suddenly visible on the other end of the video feed. He appeared to be fixated on something on a different screen, his expression suddenly worried. 

“They detonated explosives to access the depot, and now she’s tearing into the Iron Suit reserves,” Hammercommented with a sneer, fixated on the tiny blue-and-silver clad image on his own screen. “Such a lack of subtlety; I would’ve expected more from you, Dr. Thompson. You’ve been spending far too much time around Tony. Time for me to remedy that little problem.” 

In his focus on Emma, he failed to note the sudden tension on Gerig’s face. “Hammer, that’s not all. There appears to be something going on with the Winter Soldier as well, look at his hands. They’re encased in ice--”

Hammer cut the feed without listening to the rest; he had his own problems to worry about and could care less about Captain America Ver. 2.0 at the moment. He waited until the two intruders were thoroughly engaged with his plastic-suited personal bodyguards. Money buys the best, and he had plenty of money where his own safety was concerned. They were elite mercenaries hired for both their ruthless fighting skills and their company’s sterling history for never breaking a contract, and he was pleased to see they were giving Emma and Loki a run for their money. 

Not that the supernatural scientist hadn’t learned to accommodate for her ineffectiveness against his specially-designed suits. He observed her thoughtfully as she fought, twisting the environment to her advantage and tearing up his factory in the process.  _ I might have to hold off on dispatching her right away, even if it proves necessary,  _ he mused.  _ She seems to have learned a lot about harnessing their potential. Useful information, if I can extract it from her somehow. _

Gerig hadn’t been completely wrong about Loki’s effectiveness either, he begrudgingly acknowledged. He watched as the alien terrorist confused his men, turning their minds against them and using it as an opportunity to dispatch them with a thin gleaming dagger no longer than his forearm. It still blew his mind that Tony Stark was working with him, considering how high and mighty he’d gotten since turning superhero. 

_ It’s time, _ he realized with a start.  _ If I wait any longer, the damage she’s doing to the complex will start to get costly.  _

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Tony Stark watched, jaw clenched tightly, from the sidelines. Emma was running this op, and she had given firm instructions that unless things got really messy then neither he, Rhodey, or either of the two members of the Famous Asgardian Fighting Trio that had accompanied them were to get involved in the fight until directed. Unfortunately, that meant doing nothing as Emma and Loki got knocked around the island fighting a group of what were obviously very well-trained fighters.

“This is bullshit, Emma. He’s probably not even here,” he muttered quietly, transmitting to everyone on the designated frequency they’d chosen for this mission. “I say we just blow the place, and test for DNA afterwards.”

“That doesn’t help us, Tony,” she hissed back, using her magnetokinesis to rip a giant metal beam out of the building structure. It swung through the air like a giant baseball bat, until it slammed into one of the plastic Suits. “At least not in the legal sense.”

“But it’ll make me feel better,” he growled, wincing as a blast passed through the space Emma had just occupied. “Admit it, you want to turn this place into a glowing crater, too.”

“Abso-fuckin-lutely,” she murmured back as she sent one of her staves spinning through the air towards one of the mercenaries. “But I'd like to clear our names first.”

“Your opportunity to redeem yourself appears to be forthcoming, Lady Emma,” Fandral commented over the earpiece he had been given. Both he and Hogun had signed on to assist Loki and the humans with their endeavor, once it had been explained to them. Volstagg had offered to stay behind and keep watch over the Lady Zoe. As he spoke he gestured to the sky. “Above you, towards the setting sun.”

“He’s right, you two,” Rhodey responded through the War Machine’s transmitters. “Looks like at least twenty, approaching from your six.”

Emma twisted around in the air to avoid another blast, and then looked up where the Asgardian had indicated. A large group of Suits were making their way towards the combat, at least twenty of them. They all appeared to be made of metal, except for the plastic-suited figure flying at the head of them. It pulled out of a dive and into a hovering position, and the metal suits behind it replicated the action in perfect unison.

“Dr. Thompson, what a pleasant surprise!” Justin Hammer’s voice boomed out from the suit, sounding smug. “I’ll admit that I’ve been anxious to see you again, but I never expected to have you drop in on me like this. Dare I hope this means you’ve come to turn yourself in?”

“Actually, I just came to deliver a message to you personally,” Emma replied smoothly, her voice cool as ice. “You’re fucked.”

“Am I?” He laughed, glancing over at Loki and then back at her. “I have to disagree. I’ll admit, you and your Asgardian trickster make a formidable fighting force. Perhaps if it had only been my security team, which I can see you’ve mostly eliminated, you would’ve stood a chance. But too bad for you, I appear to have brought reinforcements.”

“So did we,” Loki snapped, dropping the illusion with relief. Hammer jerked in surprise as the new fighters appeared suddenly.

“If you surrender peacefully, I promise to cancel that subscription for  _ Pretty Boys  _ magazine.” Tony rose into the air, arcing toward him menacingly. “If you fight, I’ll make sure they get your new prison address.”

“Stark.” Hammer spat the name out, disgust mingling with annoyance in his voice. “You were supposed to be in Slokovia.”

“Hammer! When will you learn that I’m never where I’m supposed to be?” He grinned at the anger in his rival’s voice, knowing that his dripped with satisfaction. “I mean, what would be the fun in that?”

“You know what’s fun, Stark?” Hammer’s voice seethed with anger at Tony’s goading. “What I’m gonna do to your girlfriend over there, in order to get ahold of those nanites. That’s gonna be just  _ hilarious _ .” 

The words ripped all humor from Tony, and he fired a full compliment of missiles at Hammer. The inventor yelped and dodged quickly, getting the hell out of the way. The pack of Iron Suits fired countermeasures and they all mostly cleared the maelstrom, though two fell disabled to the earth. Hammer turned to find Tony chasing him, a red and gold demon on his heels.

“Shit!” Emma replied, launching into action. “Rhodey, back Tony up and make sure that asshole doesn’t get away! Loki, Fandral, Hogun - finish dealing with the plastics, then you can help me out.” Her eyes narrowed as she turned towards the Iron Suits that were chasing down Tony, doing their best to distract him from Hammer. “I’ve got these metal-clad bastards for now,” she murmured threateningly.

The rest of the fight went down fairly quickly, thought it was certainly the most explosive. Emma turned the metal suits against each other easily, baiting them into firing on her and then twisting their weapons into use against the rest. The three Asgardians easily dispatched the remaining plastic-suited mercenaries before joining in to help, and Tony and Rhodey finally took down Hammer. 

Emma watched quietly as he was loaded onto the ship, stripped of his plastic Suit and looking dejected. He was guarded by the War Machine, now officially in the custody of a U.S. official, with Iron Man right on his heels, making sure he didn’t try any tricks. Her eyes followed Tony, who was still so angry he hadn’t even made any smug remarks at Hammer’s capture. 

_ Free, _ she realized, the word flitting briefly through her mind.  _ I’m free.  _ Loki and the other Asgardians were climbing aboard the ship after them, and the dark-haired prince turned back to look at her, arching an eyebrow expectantly. With a small sigh she made her way onto the ship, wondering why the idea of leaving Sanctuary didn’t bring her the excitement she was expecting.


	91. Net Worth

“Sit down.” Coulson pushed Justin Hammer into the hard metal chair without regard to his comfort. The man winced and groaned, leaning forward and muttering something. “I don’t care,” Phil told him harshly, “because you’re not under arrest. You’re being detained by SHIELD, and your rights here are vastly different than your rights in a police station.”

“But I still have rights,” Hammer stated quickly. “I know ‘em, so don’t think you’ll get me to screw myself.”

“I don’t have to get you to do anything.” Phil slapped the stack of photos on the table, long practice letting him fan them in the same motion and spread them across the table. They were damning images of the illegal installation and Iron Suits. “You’ve already screwed yourself. I’m just holding you until DHS arrives. Then they’re going to drop you in a hole and no one will see you again.”

His expression faltered and some of the arrogance faded from Hammer’s face. “Homeland Security?” he echoed as the blood drained from his skin. “You can’t turn me over to those thugs!”

“You violated federal law in a time of martial law, Mr. Hammer.” Phil leaned over the table, staring at the inventor. “What  _ exactly _ did you think was going to happen?”

“I-I-I, uh, let’s be reasonable.” Hammer swallowed hard. “Wouldn’t SHIELD like the information I have in my head?”

“I don’t know, none of the inventions you released ever had worth, so what do you think you might have of interest?” The SHIELD agent smirked at him, daring him to come up with something right now.

“I know Gerig,” Hammer blurted. “His plans, and his powers-- but I need immunity.”

“Not a chance.” Phil straightened, gathering up the photos and heading for the door. “Enjoy Guantanamo.”

“Wait!” Hammer rose out of the chair and held out his manacled hands in supplication. “Just wait a minute!”

Phil turned, showing none of the eagerness he felt. He’d known that Hammer would break easily when presented with federal detainment. “What?”

“What would SHIELD do to me?” he asked, his voice shaking. 

Phil shrugged casually. “We’d incarcerate you in one of our holding facilities. If you cooperate and provide reliable intel, you’d spend the rest of your life in your own ten by ten cell. No roommates wanting to be friendly at night, no general population, and some provided entertainment.”

“Entertainment?” Hammer asked.

“I think there’s four channels on the television, and you’d be allowed to check books out of the library.” Phil looked apologetic, another nonverbal lie he gladly told the man. “I’m afraid with your background, you wouldn’t be given access to a computer. Security. I’m sure you understand.”

“Wow, after calling my skills worthless, you’d think you guys wouldn’t care about me having a computer.” Hammer snorted. “Maybe I have some worth after all.”

“Well, DHS certainly thinks so,” Phil said, drawing Hammer’s mind back to the alternative. SHIELD prison was better than Gitmo. “They’ll use  _ any  _ tool they have to get every piece of information they think is in your head.”

Hammer swallowed again. “I want your guarantee that tor-torture is off the table with SHIELD.”

“If you cooperate, there will be no need for it,” Phil assured him, even as he thought that Hammer could use a little tenderizing. “So should I call DHS and tell them you’re staying with us?”

Hammer looked down at the table, where his cuffed hands rested on the polished metal. Phil left the criminal alone with the fears in his head, knowing that those ghosts were far more effective at getting the agent the outcome he wanted.

After a long beat, Hammer said, “If you’ll give me a deal, in writing, I’ll be happy to work with SHIELD.”

“Excellent. I’ll notify Legal to start writing, and be back with the agreement when they’re done.” Phil left the room and went to his office. The document, drafted the second that Hammer had fallen into SHIELD’s care, was still in its folder on his desk. He decided to let Hammer stew for an hour -- the longer that a prisoner waited, the more thorough he assumed the paperwork was. In truth, SHIELD had a standard boilerplate for this situation, adapted case by case. Grinning to himself, he went to get a snack.

Agent Hill looked up from a book as he entered this facility's break room. “How’s it coming?” 

“Oh, I’m having ‘Legal draft an agreement’ right now,” Phil said with a smirk as he negotiated a package of nuts from the vending machine. 

Hill snorted and went back to her mystery novel. After a second, she glanced back up. “You should ask if Gerig knows where Zoe is.”

“Oh, I will.” Phil retrieved a bottle of water from the cooler with a grim expression. “I also want to know what Gerig wants with her at all.”

“Yeah.” Hill shook her head. “I’m just glad she’s on Asgard right now.”

“You and me both.” Phil went back to his office and spent an hour focusing on other matters; there was always something that needed attention.  _ The joys of responsibility _ , he mused to himself as he went over a mission request to combat the acquisition of an Iron Suit by the Los Zapos. They wouldn’t have it for long; SHIELD would send in an agent to steal or destroy it soon. Phil signed off on the mission and assigned it, then went to the next file.

Hammer had his head down on the desk, but he sat up when Phil entered. Wordlessly, the agent set the folder and pen down and took a seat, waiting patiently as Hammer read through the thick packet. The inventor frowned a lot, but when he came to the end, he signed both copies.

Phil signed as well, then handed Hammer one of the copies. “Now, I have a long list of questions,” he told the prisoner. “Get comfortable.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

“How bad?” Fury asked when Phil brought him the results.

“Not good. Gerig has powers.” Phil scowled, hiding his fear for Zoe. “And friends with powers. And some of the tech that he took from Strucker’s Tibet base.”

“What does he want?” the Director asked. 

“Zoe, and some artifact, but Hammer doesn’t know much about it. Gerig was ‘infatuated’ with both of them and paranoid about sharing the information.” Phil grimaced. “We do have a breakdown of what powers his hirelings possess. Thankfully, most of them are newly come to those abilities, so they’re novices.”

Fury snorted. “Talk about your small blessings.” He frowned. “We’ve been seeing an increase in the number of powered individuals worldwide.”

“Sir?” Phil asked. He’d heard rumors about that, but he hadn’t seen any hard data. His boss apparently had.

“Something’s going on,” Fury declared. “I don’t know what, but I can feel it. Someone or something is affecting people.”

“I’ll get a task force on it,” Phil offered but Fury shook his head.

“No, I’ll deal with it.” Fury scowled. “You keep on Gerig and Hammer. They’re the more immediate threat.” 

Phil smiled at the covert compliment. “Yes, sir. I’m doing to debrief the Avengers and report their thoughts.”

“I’m sure Loki will have something to say about this,” Fury remarked, then stiffened. Phil’s stomach knotted as he realized that Fury had just lumped the jotun in with the Avengers. “Fuck,” Fury muttered a second later.

“I’ll report as soon as I have anything,” Phil said, choosing to ignore the statement and segue into something else.

“Thank you.” Fury waved him out the door, and the agent gladly left the Director to his angry mutterings.

~  *  ~  *  ~

Once he arrived in Sanctuary, it didn’t take the Avengers long to meet with Phil. “Hammer’s been singing a song we like?” Tony asked gleefully. His mood had been obnoxiously good since his rival’s arrest.

“I don’t like it, but it’s definitely got a good beat,” Phil answered, popping a drive into an open port. “JARVIS, can you upload the full interview footage and make it available to all the Avengers?”

“Yeah, make me a greatest hits video,” Tony said with a smirk. “Make sure you get plenty of images of him blubbering, and add any crying shots.”

“I can extrapolate what you would like, Sir,” JARVIS replied.

“Multimillion dollar AI, and you use it to make revenge videos,” Natasha chided, but she was smiling when she said it. 

“A man has to have his pleasures,” Tony replied.

“Yeah, most of us use porn,” Clint grumbled.

“Speak for yourself, archer,” Loki said quickly. “Phil, can you please begin, before Clint decides to elaborate on his pleasures?”

Phil didn’t crack a smile and started to flip through a series of images on the screen. “With the information from Hammer, we were able to compile a nearly complete profile of Stefan Gerig. He was born in 1986 in rural Nevada. He grew up working his parent’s ranch, and went to the University of California for agriculture. We think he was recruited into HYDRA there, as he cut contact with his family and changed majors to Biology. He received his Bachelors from the UCSF, and his masters of Biology at the University Washington. He was getting his doctorate from the University of British Columbia when he dropped out and disappeared. 

“That’s likely when he went active with HYDRA.” Phil ended his slide show on a shot of Gerig from the battle. “We’re not sure how or when or why he ended up with Strucker’s men, since Hammer’s intel on him began only after Hammer allied with Strucker. What we do know is that he’s got a batshit crazy plan.”

“Called it!” Tony said quickly. “I totally called batshit crazy.”

“The guy works for HYDRA. Crazy is part of the package they give you when you sign up,” Clint pointed out.

“What does he want with Zoe?” Loki asked sharply, his impatience with any delay of information clear. 

“Gerig has powers, and believes that those who are getting them are becoming gods.” Phil continued before another diversion started. “He has a group of people, whom he calls his ‘pantheon’. He also believes that he is some kind of father of the gods, and Zoe is the mother of the gods. Metaphorically, hopefully.”

“We should get Odin to come down and show him what a Father of the Gods looks like,” Verun said darkly, earning a bemused smile from Thor. She and Bucky locked eyes, then both laughed at a private joke.

“That is still creepy,” Stark said to the couple. “Just in case you’d forgotten.”

“Sorry, I thought I’d said it aloud,” Bucky shrugged. “I’m still getting used to this.”

“I think that Gerig will come after Zoe soon,” Phil continued, ignoring the banter. “He’s looking for something called the Gyre of Kronos--”

“That sounds bad,” Clint muttered.

“--which he thinks will give him control over time and ascend him fully to godhood.” Phil again pretended that he hadn’t been interrupted. “Since he thinks that Zoe is his match--” Loki’s chair arm snapped off sharply; with deliberate care, the jotun set the piece on the table. The SHIELD agent continued. “--he needs her to be there to ascend as well.”

“You mentioned that he’s gathered others like him. Who else does he have on his side?” Thor asked, giving his brother a sympathetic look. 

“A lot of spot on the wall type powers,” Phil said, “but there are several notables, including a guy with superspeed, one who makes energy constructs, and one who controls the weather. On the ladies’ side of things, he has his own Hulk who turns into metal instead of green and an übermensch.”

“A what?” Loki asked.

“A person like Steve,” the agent explained. “But this woman is closer to Superman levels than Captain America’s.”

“Is that all?” Tony asked. 

“That’s all Hammer knew,” Phil answered. “I’m sure there’s more that he didn’t know, but we can start planning with what we do have.”

“Suggestions?” Thor asked, and the strategy session began in earnest.   
  



	92. Net Worth

“Get the fuck out.” Clint told the assembled Avengers, waving in the general direction of New York City. “I mean it, go home.”

“That’s an odd way to congratulate me,” Tony said, holding up the legal documents that Rhodey had just given him. The arrest of Hammer had ended the DOJ lawsuit, and the single page inside had officially removed Tony’s status as a fugitive of the U.S. government. Emma had her own letter, which meant that they were free to go home. Tony wasn’t going to miss a chance to rib Hawkeye however. 

“Yes, yes,” Sanctuary’s defender said, “you’re no longer criminals, so get the fuck out of my house. Seriously, you’ve given half of my security team ulcers.”

“We’re not that bad,” Bucky protested. 

“Bullshit.” Clint crossed his arms. “Every time one of you leaves, you risk opening this place to discovery and danger. I get it, you  _ have _ to leave and save the world. But that doesn’t change the end result.”

“Fine, fine.” Tony held up his hands in surrender. “We’ll go, but it’s gonna take some time. We’ve never stayed this long, and packing up everything will take some time. And some people will have to make some hard choices.”

“I’m aware.” Clint didn’t like forcing his friends into corners, but the safety of this place came first. Jane and Thor, and any other couples that were splitting up, would just have to decide where they were going to stay.

“And we have machinery to move, people have to pack, and there’s  _ Maria Beta _ .” Tony went on as if Clint were arguing with him instead of agreeing with everything. “I think she’s airworthy enough to limp to an old facility Stark Industries has in upstate New York. I could fly her at night, low to the ground.”

Clint raised his eyebrows. “I assume you have a point in here somewhere?”

“Well, you’re talking about a lot of work,” Tony said guilelessly, “and if people have to put forward that much effort, it seems only fair to reward them.”

“Let me guess,” Clint said drily. “You want a party.”

Tony grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, and we never celebrated Lefty and Cruella getting pre-hitched. So yeah - we’re due for a party.”

“Fine,” Clint said, “but this is Sanctuary’s farewell gig, and we’re doing this my way.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

Tony pouted against the bar, watching Darcy and Peter co-DJ in the sound booth  _ they’d _ erected. “God damnit,” he muttered, gesturing for another Scotch. The bartender, one of the cafeteria staff who’d agreed to man a shift at the bar, ignored him. Huffily, Tony went back to drilling holes in the usurpers in his domain. “I  _ always _ do the music,” he muttered, tipping up the glass to get the last drops of alcohol.

“You can’t ignite them with your eyes, Tony.” Natasha leaned against the bar next to him. She got served immediately, of course. “Blue Moon, please.” 

As the bartender went to fetch her the bottle of ale, Tony leaned over the counter and served himself. At the bemused but chiding look from the woman next to him, he said, “It’s  _ my _ Scotch, provided for the party. Oh, and my beers, my ale, my wine, my food, and my music.”

Natasha took the bottle from him. “And you have a tendency to go overboard on all of those,” she said gently, placing the bottle back, sans the bit Tony had gotten into his glass. “This is for Bucky, not you.”

“But it’s our goodbye party!” the billionaire protested. “This is probably the  _ last _ time I’ll get to party with some of these people, since they’re staying at Sanctuary, and we’re going back to the Tower.”

Natasha smiled at the reminder that the charges against Tony and Emma had been dropped, but there was something sad about her expression too. “Back to civilization,” she agreed.

“But you don’t want to go,” Tony guessed.

“No, I don’t think I  _ should _ . Steve and I left James here for a reason. It’s safer here. He’s getting old enough to know me now, Tony.” She looked at him and shrugged. “I knew this day was coming, but we thought that it would be Steve spending most of his time here with James. He wanted that -- the whole full-time fatherhood thing.” 

“You don’t have to do it, if you don’t want.” Tony put a hand on her shoulder. “Natasha, you could stay in the Tower, bring James with you--”

“ _ No _ .” Her denial was quick and firm. “Maybe when he’s older, if he wants to move there.” Natasha’s jaw tightened. “For now, I have to make the right choice for him. The safe choice.”

Tony offered his hand; surprised, she took it. “I remember you used to worry about being a good mother, when you were pregnant,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. “You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re a great mom.”

“Duh,” she said with a laugh, pulling her hand free. Her expression softened. “But thanks for saying it.” She glanced out toward the floor, past the writhing groups to Emma and Rhodey dancing together. “You should go dance.”

“I don’t dance without a partner,” he told her with a tight smile, draining his glass. “You’ve mother-henned me enough one night. Go bother someone else.”

She patted him on the cheek and wandered off with her drink. Tony watched her disappear into the crowd, knowing that if he didn’t distract his eyeballs, they’d go right to Emma. Sure enough, the second Natasha was out of sight, he locked his gaze on the one woman he shouldn’t stare at. Sighing, he pushed away from the bar and went to mingle.

He was in the middle of talking to Dr. Cho when Peter’s voice interrupted. “Hey, guys, thanks for coming to the party. As you know, this is mostly to say goodbye to the Avengers, but it’s also to celebrate two of our own getting engaged.” 

Darcy put her hands over her eyes and peered into the crowd, saying, “Bucky, Verun, get your butts out on the dancefloor!” The mass of people cleared the dancefloor, and the laughing couple stumbled out of the crush, waving as they took the floor. Darcy continued, “So the happy duo was asked what they’d like done to honor the occasion, and they wanted, and I quote, ‘music you can dance to’.”

“Or at least that they can,” Peter said, pressing play and unleashing a raucous blast of horns. 

“Called it,” Tony muttered as Bucky and Verun threw themselves into the swing music. It wasn’t the first time that the couple had shown off their skills, but Verun had been practicing and it showed. Cheers rose as the two threw each other over their shoulders, between their legs, and into the air. The song went on for four ego-destroying minutes, and Tony had to remind himself that one was a super-soldier and the other an alien. No regular human could have performed those stunts. Still, some part of him wondered if Emma would want to try--

_ Stop it. _ The dance ended and Tony clapped with everyone else. The couple came off the floor and a mass of people milled around Verun and Bucky, queuing up to offer formal congratulations. Tony joined them, fingering the small gift in his pocket. “Here, open it later,” he said, handing it to Bucky. 

“Thanks. You didn’t have to,” Bucky said, shaking his hand.

“We do appreciate it,” Verun assured him, accepting a quick hug. 

He grinned playfully. “Open it, then say that.” 

“Verun, Verun!” Darcy and Jane sidled up to the Vanir’s side. “Come with us! We have a gift for you, too!” With a look at Bucky and a laugh, she allowed herself to be drawn away.

Tony envied the expression on Bucky’s face as his fiance walked away. That envy compelled him to ask, “So is being engaged all you thought it would be?” 

There was a bitter twist to his tone and the other man looked at him sharply before taking his arm gently and pulling him to a corner. “Tony, don’t let it eat you.”

“What? Jesus, you too?” he grumbled. “Everyone wants in on my business.”

“Yeah, it’s called friendship.” Bucky put a hand on his shoulder; it was a gesture of companionship and kindness, but Tony couldn’t help but notice he’d done it with his left hand. Just a month ago, the man wouldn’t touch anyone with that hand, and Tony had to admit, it was a sign that this relationship was good for him. “Do you love her?”

“What do you know about it?” Tony asked sharply.

“Anyone with eyes know that something’s going on with you and Emma.” Bucky smirked playfully. “Neither of you are particularly subtle people. Do you love her?”

Tony swallowed, looked down at his feet and admitted softly, “Yeah.”

“Does she know?” the former Winter Soldier asked.

“No.” Tony sighed. “I need to, I know.”

“Then do it,” Bucky advised. “What’s holding you back?"

“Because if I don’t talk to her, then there’s still a shot that we might . . . something might.” Tony stared at the bar, where Emma was getting the same Scotch he’d just been drinking. “There’s hope, as tiny and ugly as it is. If she says no, that’s gone. It’s not like with Pepper. I wanted Pepper but there was the knowledge that she wouldn’t say no forever. With Emma, I don’t know.” 

Bucky smiled. “Go. Talk to her and give her your heart. Offer her all of you, not just one part of you. My father once told me that I’d know she was the right woman when I wanted to give her everything I had and all that I was, and that I wanted the same in return. If you want to give and receive that from her, then talk to her.”

Bucky was right, as was Rhodey. The billionaire knew it. Almost in a daze, Tony walked across the room. “Emma, can we talk?” he asked as he joined her at the bar, his voice unusually serious. ”

She turned to him, a flicker of concern crossing her features briefly. They’d stopped avoiding each other after the assault on Hammer’s compound, per se, but their interactions had settled somewhere around courteously professional. When she didn’t see any sign of emergency in his body language, however, her face settled back into neutral. “Sure, Tony. What can I do for you?”

“Not like that,” he replied. “Not witty Avenger banter, and not this courteous coworker crap. Hell, we could write a book on that shit by now.  _ We _ need to talk.”

Emma eyes widened a little, reflecting the little surge of panic she felt at the request. She could hear the emphasis on the ‘we’ in that sentence, but she forced a small nod. “Sure. Okay,” she replied, even as her mind was screaming at her to run. “Let’s talk.”

“I’d rather not here in case it goes badly and one of us needs to flee the other one,” he said, trying to turn the sting of her running out on him into a joke. “Can we go outside, to one of the seating areas?”

“Sure,” she repeated nervously, picking up her drink and stepping away from the bar. Together, and under the discreetly anticipatory gazes of their fellow Avengers, the two of them made their way out of the building and into the cool air of the cavern. 

Rhodey shook his head and went to Bucky, looking confused. “What the hell did you say to him?”

“I just gave him my father’s advice on women,” the former assassin said with a shrug. “Honestly, I think it was just an accumulation of pressure. He knew that he had to do it. I guess I was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

The colonel put his hands in his pockets, feeling irrationally irritated that it hadn’t been  _ his _ pressure that had broken Tony. At least Bucky wasn’t the kind to claim some kind of victory. With a sigh, he went to introduce himself to cute scientist he’d been watching all night.   
  



	93. The Talk

“So, what should we call it?” Emma asked, as she and Tony made their way towards the grassy courtyard. 

“What?” He glanced at her, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. 

“The book. I was thinking maybe ‘Missions and Martinis: The Complicated Dance of Sex, Alcohol, and Saving the World’,” she said with a nervous smile. She was trying for a casual, jesting tone but he could hear the underlying tension in her voice. The idea of looking Tony in the face and talking to him about any of this was terrifying.

“Don’t, please.” He looked at her earnestly, putting his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t fidget. He was trying to hide his nervousness, not advertise it. “Emma, we need to stop avoiding and running away, and ignoring each other. We’ve both known that for a while.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” she replied simply. They were both silent for a moment, the only sounds coming from the party behind them. After moment, she took a deep breath and continued. “I think you're going to have to start, because I'm not sure where to.”

“I’m sorry I got blackout drunk and forgot about our amazing sex.” Tony managed a hint of an awkward smile. “Not my best moment, and I’m sure it made you feel pretty shitty.”

“I'm sorry you did too,” she replied quietly. “I felt.. stupid. Embarrased. Guilty. Devastated. You offered to stop; we probably should have stopped.” She bit her lower lip nervously, but then forced herself to continue. “The truth was that I didn’t want to. Somewhere between waking up after the attack on the  _ Maria _ and ‘I can’t make you, Emma, but we need you’, something had changed. You weren’t some sort of mythical figure anymore, you were just Tony, and I… I didn’t want you to stop.”

Confidence blossomed in his chest like flowers after the rain. “I can understand that,” he told her with  _ that _ smile, “I don’t to want stop myself either.”

As always, she felt a zing of awareness run through her at the sight of that smile. He saw a brief flicker of reaction; her breath caught for a moment and a light flush crept into her cheeks. Her gaze locked with his, and he saw her pupils dilate in subconscious response before her eyes skimmed away from him.  “I guess it's my turn, then. I’m sorry for running out, that night with the pizza. I just… I had to go. If I’d stuck around long enough to explain, I wouldn't have.”

“Can you explain now?” he asked softly, his grin shifting into a playful smirk. “I’m here, and I’m listening. That’s not an offer you’ll get very often, since I’m a man.”

She let out an amused snort, she couldn’t help herself. “Wow, you are being honest.” She arched a brow at him and smirked back, then her face grew serious again. “I-I suppose so.” They’d reached the courtyard by now. She stopped walking and looked around for a moment thoughtfully, trying to collect her thoughts. Finally, after what seemed to Tony like forever, she began to speak. 

“After I realized you didn’t remember that night, I tried to put it out of my mind. I thought it would be better if I just acted like nothing had happened. Then when I got hurt, you were so thoughtful and concerned. You designed the glasses for me. Hell, you taught yourself sign language.” She wrapped her arms around herself, turning away from him a bit and staring off into the distance. It was hard to say all of this, even harder to look him in the face while she said it. 

“I couldn’t just flirt with you anymore. It . . . hurt. All the things I felt, I just couldn’t separate them. And at the same time, you made it very clear, Tony. When I got back from Knowhere, you told me. If you’d been sober, you never would’ve . . . we were just friends.” She trailed off, her arms tightening around her body, and when she spoke again her voice was shaky. “I got it. Then you started flirting again. I didn’t know what you wanted, and I couldn’t go through it all again. I couldn’t feel that way again.”

Tony nodded and opened his mouth, then closed it again. His expression darkened as he struggled to speak. Emma watched in silent worry as he tried to speak a few more times. When she started to rescue him, he held up his hand to silently ask for her patience. She didn’t understand until he spoke. 

“When Pepper died, it tore everything good out of me. When Yinsen died, I felt like it was my fault. But when she died, I  _ knew  _ it.” His voice shook with the strain of restraining his emotions. “They were my stolen plans. She was at the conference for my company. I loved her so much, and  _ I killed her _ .” 

“Tony--”

“Don’t, please,” he said softly. “Don’t tell me it wasn’t really my fault. I know it, but my heart is sure of it. I don’t want to talk about that. I told you because I wanted you to know that I didn’t think I could love again. It was so much a part of my world that I wouldn’t love another woman, that I didn’t want to see you as anything other than a friend. Loving you was risking losing you, and I couldn’t survive that again.”

He glanced at her. “My heart didn’t get the memo, though. You’d think, after being cut out once, there’d be nothing left. I don’t think there was, not until you became important to me.”

She looked up at him then, her expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Her lips parted slightly, and then closed again. She moistened them with the tip of her tongue, and then spoke quietly. “But… I didn’t think… I mean, I thought you didn’t want…” She trailed off for a moment, then cleared her throat. “What are you saying, Tony?”

“Really?” He smirked at her, reaching over to brush his fingers over her arms. “I  _ know _ you’re smarter than that, Emma.” A teasing, sly look crossed his features. “Do you need me to say it?”

“I might,” she replied gently. Her eyes sparkled mischievously, but her voice was a bit breathless. She stepped closer to him, reaching up and brushing her fingertips lightly across his chest.

He caught her hand, one after the other, and held them to his chest. “Emma, despite my desperate fear of intimacy, you are one of the proud, the few -- stop laughing, this is an important moment!” He gave her a faux frown. “I’m shocked that you aren’t giving this the gravity that it deserves. You, Emma, are one of the few women that I can’t replace with another in meaningless sex, or that I’d even want to. As a friend of mine would say, you’re my ‘best gal’. How’s that for--”

She cut him off with a kiss, leaning in suddenly and pressing her lips firmly against his own in obvious approval. He didn’t miss a beat, melting into her kiss as if he’d expected it. “That answer your question?” she murmured playfully, once they finally broke away.

“I might need you to repeat it,” he replied with a grin. “I don’t think I got it the first time.”

“Huh. Well, guess I'll have to be more articulate,” she replied teasingly, her arms sliding up around his neck. Her mouth met his again and this time the kiss was slow and demanding, full of all the longing and desire she’d been holding back for the last several months. 

He’d expected to be afraid but love and arousal overrode that. Tony knew that there would be fear later, the next time the Avengers went out.  _ I never should have made her an Avenger, _ he grumbled to himself when they stopped kissing and he gazed into those amber eyes. Of course, he was also damned proud to be dating an Avenger.

“So, now what?” he asked, holding her close. It’d be a while before he’d want to let go. “Normally, I’d be all about having sex, but I’m trying this new thing where I think about other people and what they may want. Okay, that was a lie. I’m trying to think about what  _ you _ want.”

“That's very sweet of you,” she murmured, her expression softening. “Thank you for asking.” He tried to suppress the surge of disappointment he felt at the gentleness of her tone, until he heard the timbre of her voice drop to a sultry murmur. “But I've been wanting to fuck you senseless for months, Tony Stark. You'd better not dare make me wait any longer.”

He bent over and caught her around the waist, tipping her over his shoulder.  _ Thank god I’ve been working out _ , he thought as he started for his room. 

She laughed, but threatened him with three different types of painful death if he tried carrying her all the way upstairs like a sack of potatoes. He put her down just inside the Avenger’s Place and kissed her senseless, which she didn’t object to at all. By the time they made it to his doorway neither one could keep their hands off the other, and Emma fumbled blindly for the handle behind her with one hand as they kissed, her other hand reaching up to thread itself through his hair.

Tony leaned into her; when the latch popped, they almost fell into the room. Tony kicked the door shut without looking, a talent he’d learned from dozens of conquests. They stumbled into the bedroom together, still largely unaware of anything outside each other. His fingers snagged the bottom of her dress and began to pull it up in slow, soft movements. 

“Oh, Tony,” she whispered against his lips, her body moving against his as her fingers worked their way down the buttons on the front of his shirt. Her mouth began to move across the line of his jaw until she reached his earlobe, where she caught it gently between her teeth and began to tease at it with the tip of her tongue. 

They parted so that he could pull the dress over her head and drop it on the floor. Soft music started to play, and Tony gave a thumbs up over Emma’s shoulder to JARVIS. As the lights dimmed, he stripped off his shirt, herding her toward the bed. His lips traced a path from her lips to her neck, down her shoulders, and back up, as if he couldn’t taste enough of her skin. “How do you want me?” he asked, and almost laughed when he realized he wasn’t nervous this time. He was just so eager and focused on her that he didn’t have room to feel anything else.

“Hm? Oh,” she murmured, as her lips met his again. She kissed him once, twice more before pulling back enough to respond. “I don’t know. Lots of ways. Face-to-face first, that’s all that matters. I just want to see you as--oh!” She gasped softly as she felt his fingers move over the lace of her bra to cup her breast, and his thumb stroke firmly across her nipple. 

“Missionary?” He heaved a dramatic sigh, enjoying the lost look in her eyes as his fingers worked their magic. “If you insist on sappy, overt intimacy, then I can oblige you.” He paused a moment and said softly, “Thank you, Em.”

“I do, but don’t worry. I still intend to rock your world ten ways to Tuesday before the night is o-ooohh.” She broke off into a soft moan as he continued his ministrations, and pressed her forehead to his briefly, her breath breaking into soft little gasps. Finally, she managed her last coherent question of the evening. “You said thank you. What for?”

“For giving me a third chance,” he murmured, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “I really didn’t deserve it, but unlike all the other things I was given that I didn’t deserve, I appreciate this. I  _ appreciate _ you. And if you want to switch ‘appreciate’ with another word, one starting with an ‘l’, it’d also be true.”

“You deserve more than you think you do, Tony,” she replied gently, her cheek turning into his caress. “Besides, I think loving someone means not keeping count. And I  _ appreciate _ you, too.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

Clint and Natasha traded looks from their hidden spot as Tony carried the laughing Emma inside. “About fucking time,” the former assassin said, smirking and holding out her hand.

“No. No!” Clint smacked her hand away. “I said they’d be back to New York before it happened, and they’re leaving tomorrow. They’re basically gone.” Natasha just held her hand back out, this time under his nose. Her fingers curled in a “gimme” gesture, and he groaned and dug a five dollar bill out of his pocket. “That’s not fair!”

“Quit whining,” she said, tucking the money away. “The important thing is that they’re hooked up, and we don’t have to deal with the pouting and angst anymore.”

“We wouldn’t anyway,” Clint said then glanced at her sharply. “Unless, ah, you’re changing your mind?”

“No, I’m not.” Natasha smiled, her expression peaceful. “But you know that Tony would find a way to make us miserable with him, no matter where he was.” 

“Yeah.” Clint finally smiled. “I’m happy for them. And this way, we don’t have to worry about whether the walls are insulated enough or not. That’s New York’s problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I realized a few weeks ago I double posted a chapter (apparently I wanted Committed up twice....), so I've gone back through and correct, as well as posting for this week. Make sure to read the chapter before this one as well!


	94. The Art of Gifting

“Hey, Loki-loo!” 

The shout pulled Loki’s head around, and he barely resisted a deep sigh when he saw Tony Stark sauntering toward him. “Tony, I trust you have a good reason for mutilating my name.”

“Mostly because your name was begging for it.” Tony passed him a book. “Here, a gift.”

Loki took it but his eyes were on Tony. “You’re in a hideously good mood,” the jotun observed warily.

“What’s not to love?” Tony asked. “I can go back to New York, Emma’s no longer a wanted criminal, and the  _ Maria Beta _ is officially ready to fly out of here tonight.”

“This was all true yesterday, yet your good mood only revealed itself today.” He glanced down at the book in his hands and frowned. “ _ Making Peace with Your Internal Father _ ?”

“Yeah, I thought you could use a self-help book for your Daddy issues,” Tony smirked. “It’s my copy, but feel free to keep it.”

Loki started to thrust it back at Tony’s explanation, but that last sentence stopped him. “This is your book?” he asked. 

“Now it’s yours.” Tony looked past him and his expression warmed. “I’ll chat with you later, Reindeer.” 

Loki turned as Tony passed him, heading straight for Emma. When she saw him coming, her entire expression seemed to light from within.  _ So that’s the way it is, _ Loki thought, smiling as he watched the two of them. They didn’t touch, but they didn’t need to. Their body language told the watchers that the two were completely into each other.

He glanced down at the book, thumbing open to a random page.  _ Deconstructing the Issues _ was the heading at the top of the page, but it was the writing in the margins that caught his eye. He read it twice before he realized that they were Tony’s personal notes about the chapter. They included comments and remarks from the therapist that Tony had been seeing. The notes were helpful and insightful, and very personal. 

Loki’s throat tightened as he realized that Tony hadn’t just given him a gift that he thought would help; he’d given Loki a gift that had once helped him. With a smile, Loki went to find somewhere quiet to read.

~  *  ~  *  ~

Zoe kicked hard against her sheets, the sweat-soaked cloth corded around her body. The strain finally woke her completely; she reached for Loki, but he wasn’t there. “Man, I cannot wait until they figure this temperature thing out,” she grumbled while detangling herself from the bed. She pulled her robe on, settling the cool fabric against her heated skin, and padded out into the living area. “Loki?” she called out. 

“Here,” he called, his voice distracted. Zoe followed it, wondering what could have drawn her boyfriend out of bed in the middle of the night. He was reading a book -- to her surprise, it was in English, from Earth. He stuck a finger in the pages and glanced up as she approached. “Is something wrong?”

She gave him a wry smile. “The baby is playing with my internal thermometer again. I think they-” she cut her words off, looking uncomfortable for a moment. She shook her head a little to clear it and changed subjects. “What are you reading? It must be interesting, to pull you out of bed. Just tell me it’s not Twilight. Or Fifty Shades. Even I have limits.”

“It’s a book about dealing with,” he paused and mentally tasted the words before admitting, “ _ Daddy Issues. _ Tony thought it might be useful to me.”

She cocked a grin, amusement lacing her words. “Well, from everything I’ve heard about Tony, he’d be an expert.” She slid onto his lap, pulling the book so he could still read it around her. “Is it helping? Or at least giving you some things to think on?”

“It is both helpful and not.” He sighed. “One of the things that the book stresses is that the reader must be ready to make the change. I’m not sure I’m ready.” He gave her a self-deprecating grin. “For example, I am gaining a great deal of personal pleasure by reading this in Odin’s castle.”

Zoe chuckled, nuzzling against her lover. “I think that’s okay. Family stuff takes time, from what I’ve been told, and you’ve got like several thousand years, right?”  

Loki drew in a deep breath. “Yes and no. With Odin, yes, I have time. With the next generation, I have less time.” He looked up into her eyes. “We should decide what we’re doing.”

She sobered, pulling back enough to watch his face. “What do you  _ want _ to do? Do you know yet?”

“I think so,” he mused softly, “but it’s going to piss Odin off quite a bit, I imagine.” His hand spread over the slight rounding of her belly. “What about you?”

“I. . .” she took a deep breath, fighting a shiver of fear at admitting this out loud. “I want to be a mother. I know I don’t really know how, but I know what it’s like to grow up without your parents.” She placed her hand over his, “I don’t want that for anyone else, especially my own child.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be very good at it, but I’d like to try to be a father, too.” He swallowed and gave her a crooked smile. “And I’d like him to live on Midgard, not Asgard.”

“Him?” She arched a brow at him, teasing. In truth, she felt nearly faint with relief. “Why do you want to raise the baby on Midgard? Earth. Whatever. You finally getting a taste for psychotherapy and good chinese food?”

“No. The things I remember enjoying about Asgard had one aspect in common: Mother.” Loki glanced around at the gleaming beauty of the palace, his expression unimpressed by the riches and opulence he saw. “She’s not here now. She’s here.” He touched his chest, over his heart. “I carry everything I loved about Asgard with her. I have far too many ill memories of this place to want my child to have his formative years here. Besides,” he added with a mocking curl of his lip, “how will Tony ever manage without me now?”

She laughed, then kissed him deeply. “Think maybe we can blow this place now, then? I mean, not  _ right _ this minute, but soon? Lady Eir keeps saying she’s ‘close’, but I’m pretty sure she’s just stalling for Grandpa at this point. Also, are we gonna stay team green, or do you want to know the sex of the baby now?”

“You’re here for your health, not to please Odin.” He tucked hair behind her ears. “But if you feel they’ve done all they can for you, then come back to Midgard. The situation with Emma is done, and you won’t have to stay in a cave. You can come back to Tony’s tower, though I imagine that’s of questionable comfort to you.” He grinned wryly at her. “I don’t need to know about the child’s sex -- I know it’s a boy.”

“Like actually  _ know _ know or just ‘I’ve decided’ know?” she asked archly. 

“The latter, of course. I choose to bend the world to my will.” He smiled to let her know that he was joking -- mostly. He was sure that he’d have a son; he wouldn’t know what to do with a daughter. “I suppose, the next thing we should ask one another: do we marry?”

“Well, the better question would be, do you  _ want _ to marry?” She didn’t tease him about his certainty yet - no, she was smart and she’d ask Odin or Eir first. He’d never let her live it down if she teased him and he was  _ right _ . 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, his thumb tapping her wrist. “I’m not interested in doing it because we  _ must _ . I thought that my marriage would be a mechanism of politics. I never dreamed that love would come before intrigue. What of you?”

“‘Space alien prince’ definitely wasn’t on the list of ‘men I think I might marry’ when I was a kid. I mean, I didn’t even ever consider just plain old  _ British _ royalty or something.” She cocked head to the side and admitted, “Then again, after the fire, I didn’t honestly think I would ever actually get married. Scars and growing up in a hospital didn’t exactly make me prime wifely material.”

“And I may be a prince, but I am a foundling,” Loki noted with a shrug. “I tried to invade your world, admittedly under another’s sway, but I am hardly the sort of man your father would have given his blessing to. We are not ideal for anyone else -- perhaps that is why we work. You haven’t really answered my question. I didn’t ask if you wanted to marry, but if you wanted to marry me.”

She smiled at him, a slow, genuine expression, and leaned in to kiss him again. “Yes, Loki,” she said quietly, “I want to marry you.”

He blinked, looking a little surprised. “Good.”

“You don’t look good,” she remarked.

“No, I am.” He leaned in and kissed her. “I didn’t expect that you would want to. I thought you’d continue to maintain your independence. I would be fine if that was what you wanted.”

“Oh, I’m still independent, mister, don’t doubt that,” she said playfully. “But being Mrs. Lanky Ball of Chaos will at least get Fa- uh, guys on Asgard, to stop hitting on me because they think I’m easy. Beside,” she draped her arms around his neck, a dangerous glint in her eyes, “I rather like the idea of getting to tell everyone else that I’m the only one that gets to mess with you - in all meanings of the phrase.”

Of course he missed the sweet things she said, zeroing in on the negative that wasn’t even an issue. “Men have been hitting on you?” His eyes narrowed. “Are any of them being persistent pests? I haven’t turned anyone into a newt in a century or so. I could use the practice.”

She snorted and shook her head. “No, no. I took care of it. There was some minor geography damage, but I was assured it would be fine. Haven’t been bothered since,” she smiled too-sweetly at him, matching him for impish glee in setting someone else in their place. “At least, not to my face. I’m still basically called ‘that mortal whore’ when people are whispering about me.” She snorted again, “ _ I _ have the courtesy to call them names directly.” She tapped her lips in a mock display of thinking, “That’s probably why it’s been so  _ quiet _ around me lately.”

“That’s the other reason I don’t want to raise my son here,” he added. “I don’t want him to have to deal with the stings and barbs that the Asgardians sling so callously. I want him to be with people who’ll smile at him and not whisper behind his back.”

“Oh, don’t go romanticizing humans too much,” Zoe warned seriously. “We can be just as catty and bitchy as Asgardians, we just don’t fine hone it over _ millenniums _ . And if the baby is going to rule Asgard, they’ll need to spend  _ some _ time here. Feudal rulership requires that the heir to the throne have familiarity with the court and hopefully a few friendly allies.” She shrugged and grinned wickedly, “Then again, we could just call ‘coup’ and see all the different shades the nobility turns by turning Asgard into a democracy.”

“You’d have to convince the commoners to agree to that, and you’ll find them as reluctant to change as the nobles.” Loki bounced her on his lap as he wiggled into a more comfortable position. “I want him to have happy memories with more people than his mother. I don’t think he’ll have that here.”

“I think raising the baby on Earth for their younger years is a great idea,” she said, settling herself once he was comfortable. “But I don’t want them to feel like we kept part of their heritage secret or that they shouldn’t like it because  _ we _ have issues with parts of it, y’know?”

He sighed. “Please stop making so much sense.  _ I _ don’t want to spend a lot of time here.” His eyes narrowed at her. “And neither do you. Would you like us to get married immediately? We could have it officiated today, and then the nobles can start treating you like a princess.” ‘ _ They’d have to’ _ was left unspoken.

“Y’now, if you want to do an Earth tradition, we could run off back to Earth tonight and  _ elope _ .” She grinned and kissed him. “It’d scandalize everyone! Sound fun?”

He didn’t smile. “Do you feel up to a long walk? If we took the Ways, and left now, we could be on Midgard by morning.”

Her grin widened and she stood, holding out her hand to him. “A walk sounds positively lovely, my prince.”

~  *  ~  *  ~ 

When Fandral arrived in the morning to escort Zoe to breakfast, he found only a note.

 

_ Your Majesty Odin AllFather: _

_ Zoe and I have decided to confirm our life-long commitment to one another. We are doing so by engaging in a Midgardian custom known as ‘eloping’.  _

_ We will be in touch after our child is born to make arrangements for visitation and proper education for a royal of the Asgardian Throne.  _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Loki & Zoe _

“Oh, Bor’s Balls!” Turning, Fandral dashed from the room to find the King and deliver this dire news.

 


	95. Close Enough

Tony turned as Loki entered his lab, his eyebrows rising at the sight of Zoe clinging to his arm and beaming. “Welcome back to Earth,” he said to Zoe, tipping his decanter of bourbon toward Loki in a silent offer. When the jotun nodded, Tony poured him a glass and asked, “So, Zoe, sick of the Holy Land?”

“Eh, the land’s fine. It’s just the people that suck,” the young musician said with a wry smile. She hefted herself up on a clear table, swinging her legs off the edge. “Virgin daiquiri for the newly returned to Earth? Oh, and wanna come be one of our witnesses when we elope to Vegas?” 

“Daiquiris? In my bar? Get bent, philistine,” Tony grumbled, peering into his cabinets. “I have orange juice and tonic water.”

She scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at him. “Are you truly focusing so much on alcohol that you missed what Zoe said?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow as he nursed his drink. 

“No, eloping. I’m processing.” He stared at them. “What sparked this decision?”

“We decided to get married and do it Earth-style,” Zoe shrugged, pretending nonchalance, but she was practically glowing. “Also, I figured it would be a good idea to get away from the court before I blew up another island.”

“Just one island? You need to pop two or three before you’re a true menace,” Tony joked, smiling at them. “I’m trying to decide if you two understand the omen I’d be at your wedding.”

“No more of an omen than I getting married at all,” Loki remarked with a shrug. “According to Midgardian custom, I need a witness, as does Zoe. I am asking you to be mine.”

“Aww, you picked me over Thor for a solemn, sacred occasion! That’s the first time that’s happened.” Tony grinned and topped off his glass. “I really can’t refuse. When are we leaving?”

“As soon as Loki drinks a drink for me too. Then we’re off to kidnap Phil.” Zoe poured a second drink for her fiance and slid it over to him. He made a slight face but started to work on it. “Tony, best ideas on how to make off with a professional secret agent?”

“He was once enticed by a cellist, but I’m not sure that’s how you meant,” Tony said with mock seriousness. 

“Make  _ off _ , not out,” Zoe said with a level look.

:So close,” Tony sighed. “I guess all I have left to suggest is asking him. He’ll probably have suggestions for alternatives, full of reasonable excuses for why you should do as he suggests.”

“Uh, actually, does anyone have an idea where he is?” Zoe asked. “I mean, I’m just used to him sorta always just  _ being _ there. I have no idea where he actually lives.” 

“Oh, yeah, I have him . . .” Tony dug out his phone and flipped through his contacts. “Right here. Under Agent. You wanna or can I?”

“Gimme, gimme!” Zoe grabbed his phone and waited for the SHIELD agent to pick up. “Hey Phil, it’s Zoe. I’m back on the planet and eloping to Vegas. Wanna come?”

“Wait, what?” he asked, confused. “Back up. Why are you on Earth?”

“Eh. The court in Asgard is bitchier than a high school cheerleading squad, and not nearly half as clever. Loki and I decided that we wanted to get married and raise our kid, and that neither of us really liked living on Asgard. So we snuck off to elope. Tony’s coming with us to Vegas as Loki’s witness, and I wanted you to come as mine - if you can take time off from secret agenting for that, I mean.” 

“Okay, so no one other than you guys and Tony and I?” Phil sounded hesitant. “Shouldn’t Thor be there?”

Loki leaned close to the mouthpiece. “No, he shouldn’t.”

Phil sighed. “Where am I meeting you guys?”

Zoe grinned triumphantly. “Vegas or Tony’s tower, if you want to hitch a ride with us.”

“You know, we could find a justice of the peace here in New York.” His tone was a little exasperated but he felt he was being rather reasonable, given the topic. “You don’t have to go all the way to Vegas.”

“He’s being all adult, isn’t he?” Tony stage-whispered.

“Phil,” Zoe said with exaggerated patience, “we’re  _ eloping _ . Vegas is part of the whole ‘irresponsibly running off and getting married after running away from home and getting knocked up’. It’s just not the  _ same _ if we run down some boring justice of the peace here in New York. I mean, where’s the Elvis get-up? The free casino chips? The lecture on marriage annulment afterwards?”

“You could have Thor do it, and then at least your union would have some validity in Asgardian eyes,” Phil told her. “This is more than getting married, Zoe.”

“I don’t give a shit about what the Asgardians consider valid,” she shot back with sudden heat. “Loki and I want to get married on Earth and raise our family on Earth. Asgard can pull the stick out of its collective ass if they want any access to their precious heir.” She sighed and pulled back, taking a moment to be able to speak reasonably. “We’re doing this on our terms, Phil, and we want to elope to Vegas. Are you in or out?”

“Fine,” Phil sighed again, “but only if Elvis is there.”

~  *  ~  *  ~

“And I--” Elvis paused to make sure the room, all six people, were focused exclusively on him. “Uh-huh-huh-huh! Pronounce you man and wife!”

“Or close enough,” Tony muttered, scotch in one hand and smartphone in the other. 

“Go on, then, kiss your bride, man,” Elvis advised, clapped Loki on the shoulder. 

The lanky prince arched a brow at the strange man’s temerity, but took the excuse to pull Zoe into a deep, passionate kiss that left even the jaded “Chapel of Love” employess a bit jealous. “Ahh right!” Elvis barked, doing his hip shimmy again. “I pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Loki Odinson!”

“I’ve had nightmares about this,” Phil muttered as the band behind Elvis lit into another oldies rock version of the wedding march. 

“Right?” Tony agreed, elbowing him. 

Zoe surfaced from the kiss and stuck her tongue out at Tony and Phil. “Be nice or we won’t share any of the free casino chips!” 

Behind them, Elvis coughed loudly and made a shooing motion; when they reached the door of the chapel, the pianist handed them a small bucket painted like a tuxedo and filled with small denominations of chips. She shook her head as they left, muttering, “Weirdo cosplayers.”

“What was she talking about?” Loki asked, peering over his shoulder to give her a final glare.

“She thinks--” Tony paused, weighed the fun of exposing Loki to the concept of fandoms and nerds with the tedious questions the confused jotun would ask, and finished, “She thinks we should go to the casino and spend money. I’ll get you some more chips.”

“More?” Phil asked.

“My gift. Whatever you win, you can keep as a wedding gift.” Tony wagged his eyebrows. “I mean, aside from the constant blessings of food, housing, clothing, and so on.”

Zoe grinned and grabbed Loki’s hands dragging him towards the casino floor, rolling her eyes at Tony.. “C’mon, c’mon, let’s go!” She dropped her voice, whispering conspiratorially, “I totally want to try something out I’ve been working on. If I can get it past Phil and casino floor bosses, we’re set.” 

“I fail to understand any of this,” Loki said, shaking his head as he allowed her to drag him into the noisy, crowded, brightly-lit room. Tony split off to head to the teller to secure more chips, while Phil lingered at the door where reception was better and checked his phone for messages. 

Loki’s phone buzzed, and he checked it. Thor had sent him an electronic missive, asking,  _ Where are thou? The Warriors Three are here, sent by Father who is worried about Zoe. _

Zoe was still discerning where she was going to use her chips first, so the jotun typed back,  _ I’m sure he is. We’re fine. Tony’s here. _

_ That has not lowered our concern, brother. Where are thou? _

“Roulette!” Zoe declared, pulling her new husband with her to the table. “Pick a bet, Loki.”

He looked around the room, annoyed with his brother, which impacted the ‘bet’ he selected. “I bet that woman over there is going to fall out of her dress in less than five minutes,” he said tartly, scowling at his phone.  _ I am with Zoe, she is safe, that is all you need to know.  _

_ Will you at least tell me why she has left the safety of Asgard? _ Thor persisted.

Zoe laid her hand over her face, trying not to laugh out loud. “Love, I meant place a roulette bet,” she said, motioning to the mostly empty table.

He stared for a second and said, “The black fifteen.”  _ Because she wanted to, and I give my wife what she wants. _ Grinning evilly, he turned the phone off and stuck it in his pocket. Leaning down to Zoe, he said, “Thor is looking for you. You might wish to turn off your phone before he decides to trace you.”

She shrugged, “Eh, JARVIS is likely tracing Tony, so whatever. It’ll still take them a few hours to get here.” She placed Loki’s bet, waiting until the dealer released the ball to nudge it subtly with her gift. 

“Black fifteen!” the dealer called out, smiling at the newlyweds. 

Loki blinked. “That was fortuitous,” he said, mentally calculating the odds of winning as the dealer slid a large stack of chips toward her. Remembering her words, he realized what she’d done and leaned against the table. “Perhaps I don’t wish for them to find us in a few hours,” Loki said, sighing. “You know when Thor gets here, it’s gonna be all ‘responsibility this’ and ‘duty that’. It’ll be worse now that we’ve married, mark my words.”

Zoe poked him in the side, “No” -poke- “emoing” -poke- “on” -poke- “our” -poke- “wedding” -poke- “day. Now, make another bet. Red or black or low or high or something. Also, Thor can stuff it. He had his day, today is our day.”

“Hey, here you guys go.” Tony appeared from the crowd, looking not terribly like the famous billionaire with his hoodie pulled up. He handed a bucket to Loki, filled to the brim with chips. “I need to find Agent and give him his. I’ll be at the craps table after that if you want me.” Then he was gone again, off to spend his money.

Loki smiled down at Zoe. “Another one?” He leaned close. “Is it more or less fun when you cheat?” he whispered into her ear.

She leaned into him and grinned, whispering back, “I like winning.”

“So do I,” he murmured, placing a chip on the red thirty-four. 

Twenty minutes later the table was packed and Loki had upgraded the size of their chip bucket. Zoe was switching between true random luck and tipping the dice in her favor, just to see how it would go, but her winning streak was still well above average. Floor bosses, attracted by the excited crowd around the table, had already replaced the dealer and the ball once already; when they closed the table to count the chips and check the wheel itself, he said quietly to his new wife, “Perhaps we should try our luck elsewhere?”

Zoe chuckled. “Wanna go screw with Tony at the craps table? It’s a dice game.”

Loki’s grin was pure mischief. “What do you plan, my bride?” He wondered if his friendship with Tony would survive pranking, but he was dizzy with delight. It was starting to sink in: he had married Zoe. He was a husband, and soon to be a father. It was a future that had seemed completely impossible when he’d been imprisoned by his father just a few short years ago. It had been a future he’d never been entirely sure he’d experience, once he knew the truth of his heritage. That his wife would be Midgardian, an ascended human, was a possibility he’d never entertained.

“Loki? Loki?” Zoe waved a hand in front of his face. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

“No, I haven’t,” he murmured, pulling her close and resting his cheek on the top of her head. “I was too busy thinking about us.”

She blinked at the unusually sentimental comment from her mercurial alien prince; it was nice, though, and her leaned against him-

“Oh my god, your costume is, like,  _ amazing _ ! Where did you get it? You really have the look down.” The pair looked up to see a woman dressed to the nines in Victorian Gothic glamour; she gave Loki a saucy smik. “The real-world cosplay is at the Bellagio, though. I’m headed to the Venetian, myself.” Her eyes flicked to Zoe, assessing the white-haired woman coolly, then dismissing her. To Loki she offered, “I can show you around, if you’d like. Introduce you to the interesting people.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update, everyone. We burned through our buffer of posts while two of us were injured. We're doing our best to catch up, but updates might be a bit sporadic for a few weeks. Thanks for your patience!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collaborative work of three authors. We're learning how to write as a time and using this fanfiction to have fun! :) Please let us know if you enjoy the work and any constructive criticism. 
> 
> We will update Mondays until further notice.


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